Malfoy finds Jesus
by herringprincess
Summary: NOW COMPLETE An evangelical Christian preacher in Hogsmeade befriends Draco Malfoy. Contains jokes, smiting, and slash. What more could you want?
1. A trip to Hogsmeade

A/N - ok, ok, this is really bad. This is my first attempt at fanfiction of any kind, though, so I may be partially excused (please?). It depends on a somewhat odd sense of humour that I have. Idea came about whilst out for lunch with my friend Kerry, 'thepet.' I said if I were going to write fanfiction I'd have to play to my strengths - I study theology - and write things like 'Dumbledore gets enlightened' or 'Malfoy finds Jesus.' So here it is! The first instalment, and probably the last, if I get flamed. I have completely and utterly ignored the whole Voldemort coming back thing, despite the fact this is blatantly set when they're old enough to be sexy. Sorry. I am bisexual and fancy about half of the cast, so please excuse me if I dribble. Top Trumps, for those who don't know, is a brilliant card game. Sorry this chapter is short. You may wish it was shorter if it's that bad! :-) Wasn't really sure how to format it, either, it went a bit weird when I originally tried to upload it.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
It started with a trip to Hogsmeade. It was a wet and dismal day, and half of the fifth year couldn't even be bothered to brave the rain. Madam Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion could always cure colds and flu, but who wanted to get them in the first place, just for a pint of Butterbeer? Lavender and Parvati didn't want to get their hair wet, so stayed in the girl's dormitory with a book from the library, "Magical Make-Up and Incantations for Beautiful Hair." 'Never seen them so interested in a book before,' bitterly commented Hermione. Neville stayed behind to do his Herbology homework, and Dean and Seamus were playing Quidditch World-Cup Top Trumps in the Common room. Hermione was determined to go, however, since she had been told by Professor McGonagall that there had opened in Hogsmeade a 2nd- hand bookshop of rare books.  
  
'A bookshop!' exclaimed Ron. 'Have you read everything in the library already?'  
  
'Of course I haven't read every book in there yet,' replied Hermione, 'There's thousands. But they're mostly schoolbooks, and don't you think it'll be interesting to read books on everyday wizard stuff, like magical needlework or dragon-keeping?'  
  
'Between Mum and Charlie we've got loads of that rubbish,' grumbled Ron, but he went with her anyway. Harry, of course, relished any contact with the wizarding world outside of school.  
  
*  
  
Emerging from the bookshop later, Hermione hidden behind a pile of books and Ron with a 1979 Chudley Canons Annual (with free stickers!) proudly under his arm, Harry was the first to see the man with the placard.  
  
'Oh no,' breathed Harry, stopping in his tracks. The placard read, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No-one comes to the father but through me (John 14:6)." 'I didn't know you got those nutters in the wizarding world,' Harry continued.  
  
'What?' asked Ron, puzzled. Hermione, having finally shifted her books sufficiently to see, made an irritated sound in the back of her throat.  
  
'Can't we cross the road?' she scowled. 'These people always put me in a bad temper.'  
  
'What are you both talking about?' persisted Ron. But it was too late. The evangelist had spotted them and was shouting bible quotations at them.  
  
'Then I saw another beast, coming out of the earth. He had 2 horns like a lamb, but he spoke like a dragon. And he performed great and miraculous signs, even causing fire to come down from heaven to earth in full view of men. He also forced everyone to receive a mark on his right hand.'  
  
'The death-eater's mark!' exclaimed Ron.  
  
'Oh don't be silly!' retorted Hermione, exasperated. 'The Death-Eater's mark is on the arm, not the hand. And it's from the book of Revelation, he's talking about the Emperor Nero.'  
  
'How do you know so much,' wondered Harry.  
  
'Come on,' said Ron, 'This is Hermione.'  
  
'My parents are Christian,' replied Hermione, ignoring Ron. The evangelist continued, now quoting Matthew.  
  
'Throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' But Hermione preached right back.  
  
'Each of us will give an account of himself to God. Therefore let us stop passing judgement on one another.' The evangelist faltered for a moment, confused. 'Romans 14 verses 12 and 13,' Hermione concluded.  
  
'Jesus said to them, "Watch out that no-one deceives you. Many will come in my name and will deceive many,"' the evangelist shouted, even louder than before.  
  
'Oh forget it,' Hermione muttered, as she walked away, Harry and Ron behind her. And that was the end of that. Or so they thought.  
  
*  
  
Indeed, they heard no more of the evangelist for some time. But we don't have to follow them back to the school do we? We can guess what will happen there. Hermione will start on her books, and Harry and Ron will join in Top Trumps. I have a feeling it might be more interesting in Hogsmeade for a bit.  
  
*  
  
Draco liked the rain. Although he did probably think more of his appearance than he liked to admit, he didn't have to worry, like most people, about what the rain did to his hair. His hair liked the rain. Draco never looked more - well - seductive than when he'd been out in the rain. And it made him feel wild. Sunshine was all very well in its own way, but to feel truly dark you couldn't beat a good thunderstorm. Crabbe and Goyle, as always, had followed their leader down to Hogsmeade. But sometimes Draco liked to be on his own. Especially when he was relishing feeling dark. But he had yet to throw them off.  
  
When Draco reached the evangelist, he was shouting a more cheery message. 'I and the father are one.'  
  
'Hur hur!' snickered Crabbe. 'Motherf*****.' Goyle burst out into guffaws, and even Draco gave a wry smile. That was actually witty for Crabbe, he thought, passing the evangelist by. The next words Draco heard stopped him in his tracks. Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
'Go into the pub,' he said. 'I'll catch you up.' They looked a little disconcerted, but would rather eat Canary Creams than disobey their master. When they had gone, Draco turned back and approached the evangelist.  
  
'So tell me more about this fire and brimstone, then,' he said. 


	2. All quiet on the Draco front

A/N I forgot to say before, but none of these characters or general world are mine. Except the evangelist guy. But I guess you'd know that. Unless you're Goyle. A JCB is a big machine that digs big holes in the ground. The JCB joke belongs to my friend Kathryn. Many thanks to the nice people who read chapter 1, even though I do know most of you :-) There's a gratuitous slash scene coming up eventually, just for the fun of it, so stay tuned. And er, I apologise again for the general not-very-goodness of this story.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
'Pssst.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'He's doing it again.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'He's doing it again.'  
  
'Ok, maybe you didn't understand me correctly. What?'  
  
'Malfoy. He's reading.'  
  
'So he's suddenly taken an interest in Potions. So what?'  
  
'That's not the potions textbook.'  
  
'What are you two whispering about?'  
  
'Hermione doesn't want anybody to read other than her.'  
  
'That's not true, Ron! I'm just surprised. I think he's up to something.'  
  
'Maybe Hermione's right, Ron. It is a little odd.'  
  
A shadow cowered over the Griffindor trio.  
  
'Finished already?' Snape asked icily.  
  
They hurriedly bent back over their books. Snape, for once, left them alone. Of course they hadn't finished! Even Hermione wasn't relishing this assignment. They'd be doing homework for hours!  
  
It was true, though. Draco was bent earnestly over his book. Snape, of course, in his favoritism, hadn't noticed that Draco wasn't reading a potions book. Harry craned round to see what it was Draco was reading, but to no avail. He considered whispering, but instead wrote a note and passed it to Ron. 'How long's it been going on?' the note read. Ron shrugged his shoulders and passed it on to Hermione. She read it, quickly glanced to check Snape wasn't watching, and wrote on the back of the note. She then passed it back to Harry, via Ron, who was beginning to look fed up with the whole thing. Harry read Hermione's note. 'All week. I can't think what he's doing. He's been really quiet, too. Barely bullied Neville all week.' At this point the bell rang. In any other lesson, the students would have packed up their things. But not in Potions. There was a deathly silence as they fixedly stared at their books in tense anticipation.  
  
'You will finish this essay and have it on my desk by Monday morning. No lateness, and no exceptions. You may go.'  
  
There was a scurry as the Griffindors gathered up their things as quickly as possible to get out of the hated Potions lab. The Slytherins packed up at a more leisurely pace. Draco put everything in his bag one-handed, without looking up from his book. When it was all packed away, he finally put the book in his bag and nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, who were nervously watching him.  
  
'Come on then,' Draco said impatiently, as they left the desk. Harry took this as his cue and scurried out of the Potions lab before the trio could get to the door. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him outside.  
  
'What took you?' grumbled Ron.  
  
'I couldn't see what he was reading,' Harry said quietly. 'If only we could get his bag, then we could see.'  
  
'Oh Merlin! Not still on about that are you? Does Malfoy have to be plotting every time he does anything. You know I don't like the g*t, but does he have to be up to something? Maybe he's just bought some porn.'  
  
'Ron!' exclaimed Hermione, shocked.  
  
'Not that I'd ever look at it, obviously,' Ron interjected quickly. 'But Malfoy might. I could imagine him with whips and chains and stuff. No, no, not Malfoy with whips and chains and stuff, but I can imagine him liking that sort of thing. Not that I'd know anything about it, obviously. Never read porn in my life. Unlike Fred and George. Not that I'd know that was porn of course, not having seen it. But it looked like porn. No, when I say it looked like porn, I mean I think it was porn, um, they said it was porn.'  
  
'Put the spade down,' said Harry. 'And get yourself a JCB.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'Oh. wizards don't need those do they. It doesn't really work with stop the digging spell and learn a more powerful digging spell.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'Oh, forget it. I'll need a JCB myself in a minute at this rate.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'You still haven't explained why you think Draco's reading porn,' persisted Hermione.  
  
'Um. I think Ron means he was looking awfully engrossed.'  
  
'WHAT?'  
  
'No what Harry means is -'  
  
'Oh forget it, both of you! I'm not bothered in whether you read porn. Why should I be? It's just interesting to know how you view women, that's all.'  
  
'Now Hermione.' soothed Harry.  
  
'What?' asked Hermione calmy.  
  
'Um. I don't have anything else to say.'  
  
'Of course you don't. You're a man.' Hermione retorted, turning round and walking towards the common room.  
  
'Time of the month?' mouthed Ron. Harry nodded.  
  
'And don't you dare even think a woman can't have strong views and emotions without being hysterical and pre-menstrual,' Hermione said over her shoulder.  
  
'Hermione!' came the shocked reply. 'Would we?'  
  
*  
  
Crabbe wasn't very good at worrying. It wasn't something that came naturally to him. But then, few things did. Other than looking menacing, that is. He could be thankful for that at least. Or he could be if thankfulness came naturally to him either. But anyway, as far as Crabbe could worry, he was worried. He'd not spoken to Goyle about it, but they had exchanged meaningful (insofar as anything either of them did was ever meaningful) looks. Malfoy was acting odd, and it confused them. He was reading. He didn't seem interested in trying to annoy the Griffindors or get them into trouble. Crabbe had sneaked a peep at the book Malfoy was reading. It was called, 'Have you let Jesus into your heart?'  
  
It was time to mention it to Draco. Maybe if he got Goyle to do it.  
  
'Goyle.'  
  
Goyle was trying, not very successfully, to open a packet of biscuits. The effort of directing his attention to another task made him cross.  
  
'What?' he replied, irritatated.  
  
'Malfoy. You should ask him what he's reading.'  
  
'Why?'  
  
Now that one stumped Crabbe.  
  
'Then maybe he'll stop.' Goyle screwed up his face with effort, the biscuits now left unheeded in his lap. Goyle couldn't quite work out the logic of that. Not that he usually could work out the logic to anything much, other than that following Malfoy was sensible. But no, there was definitely something flimsy about this reasoning.  
  
'How does that work?'  
  
'Uh.dunno.'  
  
'He's coming.'  
  
And sure enough, Draco had entered the common room; for once, without his book. Instead, he was wearing a huge crucifix around his neck. Goyle, trusting Crabbe as the second most intelligent of the outfit, took the plunge.  
  
'Malfoy, what was that book you were reading?'  
  
'That book?' Draco sneered. 'That book happens to be better than the whole library here put together.'  
  
Crabbe and Goyle both looked suitably impressed.  
  
'That book is about the future of the whole world. That book is about where we came from, where we are going, and how we should live our lives. That book,' here he took a deep breath. 'Has smiting in it.'  
  
Now Crabbe and Goyle don't have the largest vocabulary in the world as it is. But smiting is a word only really used by the religious, because they are the only ones capable of true morality (fear of God being the pre- requisite for responsible moral behaviour).  
  
'Er.smiting?' ventured Crabbe.  
  
'Means wreaking vengeance on those who sin against God. Usually involves painful and horrible deaths by supernatural means.'  
  
Crabbe and Goyle looked blank. Malfoy sighed.  
  
'Ok, which words didn't you understand?'  
  
'Uh - wreaking, vengeance, supernatural.'  
  
'And God.'  
  
'Yeah, and God.'  
  
'Right. Ok,' said Draco, not looking as though it were right or ok. 'Well, rather than involve you in a philosophical debate on the nature of God, why don't I just read you some smiting.'  
  
'Um.okay,' said Crabbe, warily.  
  
'It's violent,' encouraged Draco.  
  
'Cool!' enthused Goyle.  
  
Draco reached inside his coat for yet another book, this one called 'Scripture to send your enemies to hell.' He flicked it open, and ran his finger down the contents page.  
  
'Smiting, smiting.,' he murmured. 'Ah! Here it is, Chapter 3: Smiting.'  
  
Draco cleared his throat and quoted in a loud and commanding voice, 'And it came to pass, when he reigned, that he smote all the house of Jeroboam; he left not to Jeroboam any that breathed, until he had destroyed him, according unto the saying of the LORD, which he spake by his servant Ahijah the Shilonite. 1 Kings, 15:29.'  
  
'Cool?' said Goyle, hesitatingly.  
  
'Cool,' confirmed Crabbe, who had understood the bit about not leaving anything that breathed. 'Utter destruction.'  
  
'Here's another one,' continued Malfoy. 'Isaiah 37:36. Then the angel of the LORD went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and fourscore and five thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses.'  
  
'Um.' began Crabbe. 'They arose in the morning. to find they were dead corpses? And what other kinds of corpses are there?'  
  
Malfoy shot him a withering look, and cleared his throat, whilst Goyle, yet again, looked confused.  
  
'You'll like this one,' Malfoy said firmly. 'Esther 9:5. Thus the Jews smote all their enemies with the stroke of the sword, and slaughter, and destruction, and did what they would unto those that hated them.'  
  
Crabbe and Goyle both understood this one. They smiled. Draco smiled too.  
  
'And following the example of the chosen people of Israel, who is *our* enemy, that he may be smited?'  
  
'Potter.' 


	3. Smiting galore

A/N Sorry some of This chapter is a bit serious and plotty. Totally totally gratuitous shower scene. The temptation to put Malfoy in the shower is just too much for me. Unfortunately I am utterly incapable of taking anything seriously, so it won't be sexy enough to make Nat 'happy.' Only Draco in the shower as yet though. And he isn't masturbating or anything. Just soaping his lithe body..and that's quite enough. Slash scene is next chapter :-) I was going to put the Draco/Harry conversation when Harry was on his way to the bathroom (only way to get them both alone methinks), when I thought, well, why can't they both use the same urinal? :-) Don't worry, I'm not perving at *that.* Yuk, Malfoy didn't wash his hands.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The question was, however, how exactly to smite Potter. Such was the musing of Draco Malfoy as he basked in the warmth of the shower. Harry Potter was often the subject of Malfoy's train of thought when he was soaping himself down. He always managed to find a different area of Harry to muse upon. As in, the different ways he disliked Harry, of course. What did he, Draco Malfoy, care for any other part of Potter? Especially specific parts of Potter. But anyway, *smiting* Potter.  
  
Of course, lightning bolts are hard to come by, and smiting with the sword was not likely to be tolerated at Hogwarts. It would have to be something that the teachers wouldn't notice. And that meant either getting Potter to break the rules (which was easy enough) so that Harry couldn't report on anything Malfoy had done. Or it would have to be something that would be impossible to prove. Or something that wouldn't actually be against the rules. Well, perhaps the best way to go about it was to decide what would screw Potter up the most, and then work out a way of doing it. What did Potter hold more precious than anything else? Quidditch of course, he could destroy Harry's broomstick. The photo album with his parents' pictures in it, but that would be difficult to get hold of - Draco only knew of its existence because he'd heard Granger talking about it. Stupid little mudblood, she should have known better than to talk about things like that with Harry's arch-nemesis around. Why Harry ever wanted to be friends with her, he'd never know. And Weasley for that matter. Draco could never forget the embarrassment of Potter's rejection of him on the first day of term. 'I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.' Damn Weasley, it was all his fault. The bl***y trio were inseparable now.  
  
But hang on, there's an interesting one. Granger and Weasley. And all Potter's other stupid little friends. Harry had a bit of Hufflepuff in him, in the loyalty, friendship, blah blah blah bulls**t side of it. If he could just screw up Potter's fanclub, that would get Potter so mad! And Draco liked seeing Harry mad, oh yes. The excitement of deciding how to punish Potter caused Malfoy to scrub himself more vigorously. So vigorously, in fact, that he felt himself getting a little hot and bothered, and had to take a cold shower. (Like I think I should!)  
  
* * *  
  
He was reading *again*. Hermione had grown bored of the whole issue, and Ron had never been interested in the first place, so that left Harry alone to muse on what Draco was reading. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be reading too, but that looked more like a comic book, albeit, from where Harry was sitting, he could see some quite bloody pictures in it. Griffindor and Slytherin were sitting in the Transfiguration classroom waiting for Professor McGonagell to arrive. They were meant to continue with their assignments. But Harry just couldn't concentrate. He was so intent on watching Malfoy put the book down, in hope of glimpsing a peek of the cover, that he did not realise Malfoy was addressing him until the rest of the class went silent in anticipation.  
  
'Back of my head interesting, Potter?'  
  
Harry hesitated. 'Nothing about you is interesting, Malfoy.'  
  
'You're just staring into space? The particular bit of space that is where I sit? Or are you interested in this?' Malfoy gestured towards his book. Harry tried to look nonchalant. 'You want to know what I'm reading, Potter?' persisted Malfoy.  
  
'Not bothered,' replied Harry, unconvincingly. Malfoy chuckled. He tossed the book over to Harry. Harry just had time to read the cover aloud before McGonagell walked in, 'We are the chosen people: How to feel smug and superior (Intermediate Level).' Only intermediate, he thought as they all bent over their schoolbooks.  
  
* * *  
  
'So Malfoy's. a Christian?' Ron asked, disbelievingly.  
  
'No he's not a Christian. He's an idiot who gets his kicks from twisting scripture into whatever mould he chooses,' Hermione replied.  
  
'Well, I don't know, Herm. I don't know how else you can really interpret passages like, "For this is the day of the Lord GOD of hosts, a day of vengeance, that he may avenge him of his adversaries: and the sword shall devour, and it shall be satiate and made drunk with their blood,"' Harry disagreed. (Jeremiah 46:10).  
  
'Yes. Well. I appreciate some parts of the bible are violent. But it's not important. It says in Acts we can reject the Old Testament.'  
  
'But some of these are from the New Testament - oh yuk, look, in Revelation "That ye may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses, and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, both free and bond, both small and great" (Revelation 19:18). And the New Testament even quotes the Old Testament, it can't be entirely obsolete. How do you choose which bits to accept or reject?'  
  
Hermione looked at him sharply. 'Well if you think that it's okay for Malfoy to go around thinking things like this, you just go ahead and defend him. Jesus himself said all the commandments boiled down to loving God and your neighbour, and I don't see Malfoy doing that. And the example of Jesus must be more important than that of Old Testament patriarchs, surely. And Jesus was nice to people. So..so...so you just go ahead and think what you like. But I know he's wrong.'  
  
Ron and Harry, stunned by this outburst, hesitated. Ron spoke first.  
  
'Hermione, of course we don't think Malfoy's right. It's just. I can see how some people are taken in by this.' Harry nodded.  
  
'Well.okay. But it's not important anyway. What is he doing about all this? Malfoy's up to something and I want to know what it is.'  
  
Perhaps she spoke too soon..  
  
In that next week, Malfoy managed to attack everybody in Griffindor in their year except Harry. If they thought he was bad before, it was nothing compared to the new, righteous Malfoy. Neville was cursed and hexed so often, sometimes he had several curses on him at once until he could find Hermione to unjinx him. Potions lessons were the worst - Crabbe and Goyle could get away with anything they chose - sometimes Snape barely concealed how much he wanted to join in. (He joined in their fun later, of course, but that's another story.) Malfoy just sat there smirking, and occasionally glancing casually at Harry and raising his eyebrow in that infuriating way he always did. Harry seethed with anger. Malfoy had become far too good at keeping cool for Harry's liking - he longed for the first year when Draco used to lose his temper instead.  
  
Not only did Ron vomit slugs again, Malfoy also put a particularly nasty curse on him so he hiccuped spiders. Ron was white with fear for several hours afterwards. Hermione was put under a forgetfulness charm whilst her back was turned, making her forget all the answers to the Herbology test. She cried in the toilets and wouldn't come out. Eventually, Moaning Myrtle performed the counter-curse ('it was in the last lesson before I died') on the grounds that Hermione was weeping too loudly for decency. Lavender and Parvati looked in the mirror to find they had acquired magical acne. Dean and Seamus lost their voices.  
  
Somehow, Malfoy was so much more sneaky now he'd found Jesus. He became very skilled at cursing when there was nobody around to witness it, and escaped to the safety of the Slytherin common room before anybody could curse him back. 'I know I can do it,' he was heard to boast to Pansy Parkinson, 'I have God on my side.' The only Griffindor left intact in the year was Harry.  
  
'It's my fault,' Harry complained, bitterly. 'He's trying to get at me. He wants me to confront him.'  
  
'Don't do it, Harry,' ordered Hermione. 'Turn the other cheek.'  
  
'I'm not a Christian, Hermione. I'm allowed revenge. I'm especially allowed an explanation. But he won't give it to me.'  
  
Seamus, who was drinking orange juice in the corner of the common room, spluttered it out and began to laugh. Everybody turned towards him. 'How is this funny?' Ron demanded.  
  
'Bad choice of phrase, Harry, *bad* choice. I - er- think he would give it to you if you asked him nicely. In fact, that could be a way of wrapping him round your, ahem, little finger.'  
  
'What are you going on about?' Harry asked.  
  
'Have you not noticed the way he looks at you in Quidditch practise? Kind of, "Have my babies you sex god" kind of way?'  
  
'M-Malfoy f-fancies me?'  
  
'Only when you're on your broomstick. Must be something about your poise, your grace..or the fact you've got a large phallic object between your legs.'  
  
'Seamus!' scolded Hermione.  
  
But Seamus just burst into giggles.  
  
'Oh come on, someone else must have noticed.'  
  
'I - I thought something of the kind,' confessed Ginny, who in truth had been watching Malfoy with a jealous eye.  
  
'I'd not thought about it, but now you mention it, he does always look at you in a very particular way, Harry,' agreed Dean.  
  
'*Very* particular,' emphasised Seamus.  
  
'Yeeeeeeuuuuuuuuchhhh!' exclaimed Ron, unable to put his disgust into words. 'You guys are gross.'  
  
'Look, we're trying to be serious here,' Harry remonstrated. 'How can we stop Malfoy? Hermione, any ideas?'  
  
'I - I think they could be right, Harry.'  
  
'What!'  
  
'If it *is* true -'  
  
'It is,' Seamus interrupted fervently.  
  
'If it *is* true, then you have a lot of power over him, Harry. You could, well, tease him.'  
  
Lavender and Parvati giggled. 'I could help you there.' Parvati said. 'I've read every article on flirting and teasing in TeenWitch for the last 5 years.'  
  
The disgusted expression on Ron's face intensified, if that were possible. 'Oh please, no. I can't bear to imagine it. You flirting with Malfoy. That is an image I never wanted. Thanks, guys.'  
  
'*You* can't bear to imagine it? How do you think *I* feel?' Harry protested.  
  
It took a long time to persuade Harry. Ron had to leave the room when Harry's flirting lessons began. Hermione pretended to be reading a book, but she seemed to listen intently when Parvati spoke. Ginny had gone a little pale, but did not leave. Neville came in halfway through, to find Lavender gazing seductively into Harry's eyes whilst Harry stammered out a few chat up lines. After they had revived Neville from his fainting fit, he informed them that the younger Griffindors would be finished in their lessons any minute, so they sent Harry to the boy's dormitory to practise teasing on Seamus, who, they found, was actually rather good at impersonating a sexually charged Draco Malfoy.  
  
* * *  
  
Two days later, and Harry's chance came. Harry was in the men's toilet by the Great Hall when in walked Draco. Harry started, feeling strangely vulnerable in the light of Seamus' theory. Suddenly he didn't want Malfoy to see him peeing. But Malfoy seemed perfectly comfortable.  
  
'Seen the light yet, Potter? Put your faith in Jesus?'  
  
'Look, Malfoy. I know you're trying to use my friends to get at me. What I don't know is why. Meet me at midnight tonight on the Quidditch pitch, bring your bible if you want to.'  
  
'Why can't we talk here?'  
  
'Because it's a urinal.'  
  
At that moment, a nervous looking first year Hufflepuff walked in. Malfoy zipped up his flies, and walked out, without looking back at Harry. 


	4. Gratuitous Slash scene

A/N. Sorry this has taken so long to put up! The long-promised gratuitous slash scene. Ahem! Oh dear. Oh dearie dearie me. Apologies, I was brought up a catholic, I am repressed. I have put a # next to the bits where, on re- reading, I think my subconscious is a lot filthier than my conscious mind is letting on. Credit to Chris Warner for the appalling innuendo, marked ^ Thankyou for being patient and for still reading my stuff :-) The characters etc. are not mine. I suppose I also ought to disclaim any of the theological opinions mentioned anywhere in this story: the view of the characters is not necessarily at any point the view of the author.  
  
Chapter 4: Gratuitous Slash  
  
Harry was nervous. Well, who wouldn't be? He was about to try and seduce his worst enemy.  
  
He'd gone to the Quidditch pitch early, on Seamus' grinning recommendation, so Draco could 'see him in action' before they 'talked.' How Seamus had managed to get the inverted commas in so effectively, Harry did not know. Seamus had also lent him a book, 'Chris Warner's Bad Puns and Innuendoes.' Having flicked past chapters on 'Harold Pinter' and 'At the Christmas dinner table,' Harry had read the 'Quidditch' chapter, unsure whether to laugh or groan. Still, he had memorised some of it, just in case. On a less gratuitous note, Hermione had spent much of the evening informing Harry about biblical evidence regarding the 'Is homosexuality okay with God?' issue. His head spinning with bad puns, the Smiting of Sodom and Gomorrah, and half a dozen alternative interpretations of St. Paul, Harry was relieved to focus his concentration on flying. Which was quite a good job, since if he had had to fly with the intent of impressing Malfoy, he probably would have been sick - not particularly endearing.  
  
As it was, when Malfoy came#, Harry was putting on a splendid performance#. Malfoy could not help but envy Harry's grace in the air, and of course, admire his pert behind. Draco, with foresight, had brought along his broomstick in case the discussion was to take place in the air. Leisurely, and with perfect composure, he mounted his broomstick and flew gently upwards. Off the ground, as he drew closer to Harry, who was engrossed in chasing an imaginary snitch, he did not feel quite so composed, though he preserved an expression of serene contempt on his flawless features. When Harry saw Draco, he started, but gathering together his courage, swooped down towards him smoothly and effortlessly in a perfect arc, finishing just a little too close to Draco for either of their comfort. They stared, hostile, into one another's eyes.  
  
'You want to talk,' Draco said softly, with a hint of menace, 'Let's talk.'  
  
'Oh come on,' purred Harry in what he hoped was a seductive manner. 'A little game first.'  
  
Harry leaned closer to Draco, till he could almost have kissed him and whispered, 'Want a peek at my golden snitch?' ^ Harry whooped inside as Draco almost fell off his broom. Struggling to keep a straight face, Harry recaught Draco's eye and fumbled inside his robes, whilst Draco stared in disbelief. Harry brought out a golden snitch, held between thumb and forefinger. Just as Draco was about to heave a sigh of relief, Harry raised his right eyebrow, and Draco's breath caught in his throat. Yes! Though Harry exuberantly. I've done his swanky eyebrow trick right back at him! Though Draco's face remained sneering, Harry could see in his eyes Draco was nervous . . . and something else?  
  
Harry had bewitched the snitch to glow in the dark, and here he released it. It sped off, and Harry turned a loop-the-loop before following it, during which time Malfoy had shaken himself, and raced after the snitch, knowing that even with a head start Harry was a better seeker than he. The two became engrossed in their game. Several times Malfoy felt Potter was *allowing* him to almost win, before whizzing down to place them on an equal par again. When Harry eventually caught the snitch, just six inches from Malfoy's knee, # Malfoy could not help ejaculating, # 'You're playing with me Potter. Stop it!'  
  
'Oh I wish,' Harry emphatically replied, giggling maniacally inside. '*How* I wish.'  
  
The surge of adrenaline and testosterone made it even harder# than before for Draco to keep his cool, but he managed admirably. Saying only, between gritted teeth, 'We came here to talk.'  
  
'Did we really? Ah yes. What *is* your vendetta against me Malfoy? Why of all people to choose as your enemy, why me? Why pursue me so single- mindedly?'  
  
'Perfect Potter - why ever not? Quite apart from - shall we say family vendettas? It covers an awful lot, that phrase. We hate the Weasleys just as much, you know, but you in particular have rather more successfully opposed our friends. But, quite apart from such vendettas - you're just so easy to wind up.' He grinned smugly.  
  
'I'm easy all right - but only to some.'  
  
'What are you getting at, Potter?' Draco asked suspiciously.  
  
'I think you spar with me because you fancy the pants off me.'  
  
'In your dreams!'  
  
'In *my* dreams?' Harry moved even closer. 'What about your dreams, Draco?'  
  
This was too much for Draco. He closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. Merlin! He could smell Harry, so close. However, he said hoarsely, 'God smote the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah for their unnatural passions towards their own sex.' Harry's voice sank to a whisper.  
  
'But that's only the Old Testament, Draco. I know you eat pork - and shellfish, come to that. So you cannot take all of the Old Testament at face value.' Draco's voice whispered back, too low for us to hear. There followed a whispered conversation of protest and reassurance.  
  
'Literal translation is manf***er . . . could mean anything . . . women wearing hats in church . . . second Vatican council . . . blatantly gay popes . . . define perversion . . . natural law . . . bisexual dolphins . . . 'Beloved' disciple . . . '  
  
Eventually, Draco hung his head, his eyes closed, listening to Harry's gentle but forceful whispering. The whispering stopped and they stayed there for a moment, both still hovering on their broomsticks, Harry's breath tickling Draco's ear.  
  
If it had been quick, perhaps Harry would have had an easier time defending it to himself - not realised until it had actually happened, even swept away by the moment etc. But it was not quick, and he was well aware that he was no longer disgusted, but excited by the idea that Draco might find him attractive. Draco raised his head, and his eyes met Harry's. Lust undisguised now, but still with a biting edge of hate, Draco was helpless to resist the pull of gravity between him and Harry. Harry too was powerless. Vaguely wondering what could be read in his own eyes, he moved closer and closer to Draco, closing his eyelids at the last moment before their lips met.  
  
* * * Intermission music * * * (sorry).  
  
Some time later, their lips eventually drew apart, but their foreheads nearly touching. Their faces separated by just an inch, they looked at one another. It was Draco who shuddered and pulled away, turning and flying back to the castle as quickly as possible, without a look back, leaving Harry to wonder at what he had just done.  
  
Both were too engrossed to notice a redheaded figure speed back to the castle on foot . . . 


	5. Angst and Gossip

A/N This chapter is dedicated to Kat, for making me write fanfiction instead of revising, but sleep rather than write fanfcition, and for buying me my Muse, Rhys the Griffin. Good luck in your exams my dearie. I seem to have some kind of theme going with Draco - you'll see what I mean. This chapter is somewhat uneventful in terms of action and indeed humour but even I winced at the sheer blasphemy. And it kind of tails off at the bottom. (Sorry I don't have anything better to offer, Kat!) There is a footnote at the bottom, following on from the point marked #. I finish exams soon so will be updating quicker.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 5: Angst and Gossip  
  
When Harry finally returned to the Griffindor common room, he found most of his friends waiting for him.  
  
'Whathappenedwhathappenedwhathappenedwhathappened?' asked Seamus, bouncing up and down by the door.  
  
'Nothing!' Harry replied too quickly.  
  
'Nothing?' echoed Seamus, looking excessively disappointed.  
  
Hermione looked dubious. 'Well? Didn't he turn up? You were gone an awfully long time.'  
  
'No, he turned up,' Harry affirmed. 'I - I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed.'  
  
Seamus squealed. 'You can't leave me like this, Potter! I'll go insane!'  
  
'Go?' Ginny said quietly, as Dean muttered, 'Yeah, I bet that's what Malfoy said.'  
  
Hermione shot them a warning look. 'Of course, Harry,' she said. 'Can you just answer one thing? Did it work? Does he like you?'  
  
'Yes,' Harry sighed. 'Hopefully he won't give us any more trouble.'  
  
And with this, he staggered over to the stairs, head still reeling. Oh, but he'll give me some trouble tonight, he thought to himself. Barely noticing Neville and Dean forcefully restraining Seamus from following, as Hermione tutted and Ginny sat quietly, Harry slowly made his way to the boy's dormitory. As he got into bed, Ron's low voice spoke quietly, 'Worked then?'  
  
'Yes,' Harry replied. He was on the verge of telling everything to Ron, but knowing that the other boys in the dormitory could be awake, he did not. Thinking on it later, he was glad, remembering Ron's disgust earlier on. He fell asleep suprisingly quickly - his brain seemed to have decided that going offline for a few hours was the better way of coping than endless pondering.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
At breakfast, Draco was silent. His silence reverberated around the Great Hall. He wasn't even reading. He was just sitting there, methodically going about the business of eating his breakfast, his gaze unfocused and seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Other students kept looking over to the Slytherin table, unable to place what was different in the hall this morning. The Griffindors were especially interested.  
  
'He's still not doing anything,' reported Neville. At Hermione's instructions they were taking it in turns to look at the Slytherin table to avoid arousing suspicion. This in itself was, of course, suspicious, since they usually spent most of their time shooting filthy looks at the Slytherin table, but there *was* a reason why Hermione wasn't put in Ravenclaw, after all. Luckily no-one at the Slytheirn table noticed, being too preoccupied with Draco' silence.  
  
'I wonder what he's thinking about,' said Ginny. Seamus choked on his orange juice.  
  
'I'm not sure I want to know,' he exclaimed, spraying juice everywhere.  
  
'Seamus!' Lavender shrieked. 'You've got orange juice on my top!' She dabbed frantically at it with a napkin.  
  
'But its an orange top,' Ginny offered.  
  
'That's not the point,' Lavender replied, as though addressing an imbecile.  
  
'So go and change it,' Ron muttered impatiently.  
  
'Well I suppose I'll have to,' Lavender said, glaring at Seamus. 'I just hope I'm not late for divination.'  
  
'The stars forbid!' Dean said sarcastically.  
  
'I'm sure the Professor would know why you were late without being told, of course,' Hermione added, innocently. Lavender looked at her sharply.  
  
'Here, you can borrow my scarf,' Parvati offered. 'It would go beautifully with that top, and it can cover up the stain.' Eventually the affair was settled, and Ginny returned to the topic in hand.  
  
'But what is he thinking about? I mean, is he considering the implications of his homosexuality or planning some more smiting or dreaming about Harry naked or just worried about looking him in the face?'  
  
'Who cares,' Seamus concluded philosophically. 'Hopefully we'll get some action out of it whichever way.' Ron did not look too enthralled. Harry bowed his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
Draco Malfoy had a secret. As yet undiscovered by his friends or his father, he dreaded the day when they might find - those things - among his belongings. What they would do then, he did not know. He hoped he could find some excuse, deny that they were his. He had kept his secret for years, and had done a much better job of keeping it hidden than his feelings for Harry, apparently.  
  
His secret was this:  
  
He was addicted to some Muggle merchandise.  
  
Specifically, bath products from Lush.  
  
Lounging in his bubble bath (Blue Skies and Fluffy White clouds), he tried to clear his head. The essential oils were not working today - frankincense refused to make him tranquil. So much for the 'wise' men - why didn't they give Jesus some Prozac# instead? That would have been much more effective, and then maybe he wouldn't have thrown such a tantrum on the cross. If he, Draco had cried out every time *his* father had forsaken *him* he would never be silent. He chalked the question up on his list of things to ask his evangelical friend. Right there after what exactly was the deal with homosexuality in the bible. He wondered if the bible said anything about baths. Draco thought guiltily about the pink bath bomb in his stash, then corrected himself. Owning things that were pink did not make him gay, and neither did enjoying long relaxing baths. No, his mischievous subconscious piped up, snogging Harry and wanting to do a hell of a lot more, that's what makes you gay.  
  
This was typical of the sorts of things Draco had been thinking all day. Whatever he tried to think about, it all came back to Harry. Well he didn't want to think about Harry. He wanted to think of anything but Harry, in fact. He'd moved from wondering what was for tea to considering the toilet habits of Hippogriffs, from why Catholics should be burnt at the stake to trying to remember the words to the Sorting hat's latest song. They all came back to Harry. Wondering what was for tea drifted into Harry looking gorgeous eating tea, then Draco eating tea off a gorgeous-looking Harry. The toilet habits of Hippogriffs had become Harry looking sweaty and manly tending Hippogriffs, then Draco and Harry rolling around sweatily in the hay. Burning Catholics at the stake was contextualised by Harry dressed all in black carrying a flaming torch for the stake, then Harry dressed in black leather and holding a flaming candle, teasingly dripping wax over a naked Draco. The Sorting Hat's song metamorphosed into thinking how cute Harry would look wearing nothing but the Sorting hat. In a brief, rather foolish attempt to give himself a mental cold shower, Draco tried to think about Crabbe and Goyle naked. Bad move.  
  
'Ughg!!!!!' he cried out loud. 'Thanks Draco, I'm scarred for life.'  
  
It was then Crabbe and Goyle decided to knock on the door. They had been having another discussion.  
  
'Are you alright Malfoy?' Goyle began.  
  
'Are you talking to yourself?' Crabbe interrupted.  
  
'No!' Draco shot back. Hang on, talking to yourself wasn't gay, was it. Wasn't it a sign of eccentricity? Or possibly madness, but he was rich enough for eccentricity. 'Um. . . maybe,' he corrected. Maybe. Very authoritative, Draco, he thought. He tried to fight an image of Harry being authoritative. There was a pause outside, followed by some scuffling and 'you ask him,' 'no, you,' in low tones. Draco rolled his eyes. Eventually Crabbe spoke:  
  
'We were . . . um . . . would you like to come out and talk to us? No? Okay. Err. . . we were wondering why you're being so quiet today.'  
  
'A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; Ecclesiastes 3:7,' Draco replied listlessly.  
  
'Right,' Crabbe replied uncertainly. They seemed unsure what to say to this and after some more frantic whispering and jostling left without adressing any more questions. Draco sank further into his bath. Those two were getting postiviely confrontational since he'd told them what was on his mind last time, he thought. That's why you should never tell anyone whats on your mind. Especially not when it involves them and a Lush massage bar.  
  
He sat up dejectedly, bubbles still attached to his upper body. His mind immediately leapt to an image of Harry covered in bubbles.  
  
'Thank God I can go to Hogsmeade again tomorrow,' he said out loud.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
# Why does Draco know about Prozac? Isn't that a bit Muggly? As a matter of fact, Prozac was originally a potion that went wrong. When a wizard took it, he lost all magical powerds and became a squib immediately. Prozac potion soon ceased production, but the ingredient list found its way into a laboratory hundreds of years later, where it was somewhat ineffectually produced by Muggles who knew a lot about brain chemistry but virtually nothing about magic. 


	6. New strategies

A/N This has taken absolutely forever to upload because my computer access is problematic. Hence, other chapters will also be sporadic. Sorry. If you want to be updated whenever I do update, just tell me so in a review. Oh, and please review! I repeat, none of these theological opinions are mine. I don't just put my opinions in the mouth of characters, because I don't identify myself with any of them to that extent! The only character who is mine is Archibald Beanstead. I'm welcome to him, methinks :-)  
  
Chapter 6: New strategies  
  
Even evangelical Christians sometimes succumb to temptation. Archibald Beanstead, preacher, missionary, and one of the elect chosen people, for example, indulged one fine afternoon in a mug of butterbeer with Draco. So far, Draco was no further to understanding Archibald's position on homosexuality. Oops, slip of the tongue there, I mean God's position on homosexuality. At least, Draco couldn't see what was wrong with homosexuality. Archibald, I mean God, seemed to think it very bad. Because it went against His will. And His will went against it because it was bad. Whilst Crabbe or Goyle might not have seen any problem here, Draco did. Confident it was a misunderstanding on his part, Draco tried to clarify.  
  
'So, could God make it so it wasn't bad?'  
  
'God is omnipotent. But He wouldn't make it so it wasn't bad, because it's bad.'  
  
'But if God could change it so it wasn't bad, and if changing it so it wasn't bad would stop people sinning, because it wouldn't be sin anymore, why doesn't God change it so it isn't bad?'  
  
The evangelical preacher paused for a moment. 'Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? Canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth? (Job 38:33.) Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? Or who hath given understanding to the heart? (Job 38:36).'  
  
'So we're back at God's immutability.' Archibald nodded. 'But what about comprehensibility? Shouldn't we be able to understand God's purpose?'  
  
'No,' Archibald stated simply. 'Only God knows. We are not omnipotent.'  
  
'But we know some things, don't we? I mean, we know that God is behind the bible, and we know the commandments written in it.'  
  
'That,' Archibald said icily, 'is different. That's revealed. As is the Lord's condemnation of homosexuality. It's not for us to understand it, just follow God's commandments and remain faithful.'  
  
Draco gave up. 'So we do what we're told. We don't have to understand it. And homosexuality is unquestionably wrong.'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'What if. . . by homosexuality we could bring someone into the fold?'  
  
'We do not convert, the Spirit converts. We are mere vessels. The Spirit does not use sex in His Holy purpose.'  
  
Lingering images of long, intense conversations on Christianity with Harry, after longer, intense bouts of shagging, faded reluctantly from Draco's mind. Ah well, he thought. I was always better at being an arrogant bastard than having angst-filled inner monologues, anyway. So he turned, instead to another topic.  
  
'So, about smiting.'  
  
* * *  
  
'Come on, its a great idea.'  
  
'It's certainly more well-researched than most of your ideas, and a lot less filthy too, but the answer is still no.'  
  
'Come on, Hermione. I don't know where it is in the bible; you have to help me. It doesn't compromise Harry in any way, unlike my last idea, it doesn't break any - well, many - school rules and it'll be funny.'  
  
Unexpectedly, Ron spoke. 'If it doesn't involve Harry snogging Malfoy, I'm all for it.'  
  
'Harry snogged Malfoy?' Seamus asked in surprise. 'Did you see? Was that why you weren't in the common room?'  
  
'Of course he didn't! But I can guess what your next stage on that old plan would be.'  
  
'No, actually, snogging *wouldn't* be my next stage. You're such a prude, Ron. First dates aren't just about snogging anymore.'  
  
Hermione sighed. 'What do you think, Harry? Harry?'  
  
'Huh? What?'  
  
'Off frolicking in a field with darling Draco?' Seamus teased.  
  
Luckily, Ginny intervened. 'Hermione wanted to know what you thought about Seamus' plan,' she said.  
  
Harry tried to shake himself out of his daydream. 'Oh, I don't care anymore. He's stopped trying to smite us all, hasn't he? Why bother?'  
  
'But it will be *funny,*' Seamus pleaded, exasperated that no one else seemed to grasp this. 'Why are you sticking up for him?'  
  
'I'm not sticking up for him!'  
  
'I think it'll be fine, Seamus,' Hermione interrupted. 'If he does anything more we can just threaten to tell everyone he fancies Harry.'  
  
'No!' Harry exclaimed. 'You're not to say a word to him about it. Ever.'  
  
'But. . . how can we expect him to behave then?' And why not?'  
  
'Because. . . it's too embarrassing to have him after me. Everyone will start teasing me and acting like Seamus.'  
  
The Griffindors paused in horror at the contemplation of a Hogwarts full of Seamus.  
  
'Look, go ahead. It's a great way to embarrass him. You have my blessing. Hermione, show them the bit in the bible. Just never mention the Draco fancying thing ever again. Not to anyone, especially not to me. Ok?'  
  
There was a brief silence. 'I understand,' Ron said. 'I've been saying all along how gross it is. You must want to just forget all about it.'  
  
'Yes. Yes I do.'  
  
* * *  
  
'Have you been reading my highlighted bible?'  
  
'Yes. And I also read some of the non-highlighted bits, and they confused me a bit. Like Leviticus.'  
  
'Go on.'  
  
'Yes, well, apart from the homosexuality bit, I was also a bit perturbed by the not wearing garments of mixed materials. Why would that be an abomination to the Lord? And where it says that women who get raped should be forced to marry the guy who rape them if they scream, but should be stoned if they don't scream. . . I'm not a feminist or anything, but I didn't really like that bit.'  
  
'Oh, well that's one of the bits of the Old Testament we ignore.'  
  
'How do you choose?'  
  
'The Holy Spirit guides us.'  
  
'The Holy Spirit, right.' There was a pause. 'So, the homosexuality thing, that's the bit of Leviticus we accept. And the smiting. And it makes sense because Adam and Eve were united in one flesh. Not Adam and Steve.' Archibald smiled and nodded. 'So, when Paul writes that it is better not to marry. . . what happens to the one flesh thing?'  
  
'Individuals are also one flesh. The point is that God never decreed that men and men or women and women could have the same sort of union as the one flesh. Why are you so interested in this anyway?'  
  
'No reason, no reason. Oh, actually one of my friends is gay. Well, my arch- nemesis actually, not my friend. I don't make friends with err faggots?' Was that the expression? Wasn't that a sort of meat dumpling thing?  
  
Archibald reached over and patted Malfoy on the shoulder. 'Worry not Draco, you are shown a superior being to your enemy. Not only are you Christian, you have only natural passions too.'  
  
'Yes, they certainly feel natural enough. The object of my desire is pretty fine.'  
  
Archibald smiled serenely.  
  
* * *  
  
'You're an awful liar,' Ginny said conversationally, walking up to Harry as he wandered aimlessly through the grounds.  
  
'Me? Lie? Ahaha. Hahahahaha. Me lie? Ha. Ha. Hahahahow did you know?'  
  
She giggled. 'If I didn't, you would have just told me anyway. But the fact that you're staring into the distance all the time helps give it away. I remember being like that myself once. Then you don't want to talk about Draco, but seem not to want to hurt him either. You stammer when people get too close to the truth. But the real clincher is that I saw you snogging on the Quidditch pitch the other night.'  
  
'You saw WHAT?'  
  
'Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. Especially not Ron, though I think he might suspect. I know us Weasleys aren't always the brightest of the bunch, though our hair is, but he is your best friend and he must have noticed something is up with you.'  
  
'Oh, that! That was. . . Draco just. . .'  
  
'Don't patronise me, boy. I just thought, if you don't want to talk to anyone else about it, I'm here for you, type thing. I never really imagined I'd be your dating confidant, but I actually feel a lot better about you not fancying me when I fancied you, because if you're gay, maybe that means Cho just looks like a man or something.'  
  
'Oh I don't think I'm gay, I just. . . '  
  
'Fancy men? Right. Anyway, I'm around if you want.' She slung her bag over her shoulder and skipped back to the castle, her long red hair swinging.  
  
* * *  
  
As Draco made his way back to Hogwarts, he could not decide if he felt better or worse since meeting up with Archibald. Part of him just wanted to ask more and more questions, and part of him wanted to lose his doubt by trying to force Christianity onto everyone else. And do some more smiting. On the edge of Hogsmeade, he saw a little church. There was singing coming from it. Archibald had warned him that not all who professed to be Christians were saved, that this particular group pretended to do the will of God when actually just trying to fit in with the morals of the day. 'Liberals,' he had spat distastefully. 'Wishy-washy Christians. God will judge them.' The singing sounded so happy. No, not happy. So Harry. They sounded like bloody Griffindors and Hufflepuffs, that's what they sounded like. So pure, and so stupid. Draco seethed his way back to the castle. Crabbe and Goyle had gone back long ago, Draco was last back, and running the risk of being late. In fact, he got back one minute before the deadline. McGonagall glowered at him from the top of the steps in the Great Entrance, and looked meaningfully at her pocket-watch. He just grinned. He began to walk through the castle towards the Slytherin dungeon, pleased with himself, when suddenly there was a blinding light from above. 


	7. Blinding light to pitch darkness

A/N Did you guess what was happening at the end of that last chapter? This chapter has more religion, the appearance of a new character (sort of), Hermione being Hermione and a showdown scene between the boys-expect tension! Pleeeeeease review. By the way, I've kept the swearwords in because people have commented it's odd to star them in an R-rated fic.  
  
Chapter 7 Blinding light to pitch darkness  
  
He began to walk through the castle towards the Slytherin dungeon, pleased with himself, when suddenly there was a blinding light from above.  
  
'What the-!' he exclaimed. He could see nothing. A deep voice boomed and echoed around the corridor.  
  
'DRACO, DRACO, WHY PERSECUTEST THOU ME?'  
  
'What? When did I turn into St. Paul?'  
  
'I AM JESUS WHO THOU PERSECUTEST.'  
  
Draco fell to his knees. 'Lord!' he exclaimed. 'I didn't realise! Do you mean. . . you want me to stop smiting the Griffindors? Are *they* your chosen people?'  
  
'YES, YOU IDIOT. NOW GO AND BUY THEM SOME CHOCOLATE TO SACRIFICE TO ME. OH, AND SOME EVERY FLAVOUR BEANS. AND BE NICE TO SEAMUS, HE'S MY FAVOURITE.'  
  
Draco jumped up quickly. The blinding light vanished, replaced by total darkness. 'Oh you think you're so funny,' he said in an attempted withering tone, as the Griffindors burst into muffled giggles. 'What did you do with the lights? No, this whole thing is just beneath me.'  
  
'Lord! Oh, I-I didn't realise'' Dean cried in a high pitched voice.  
  
'THIS IS NO JOKE DRACO,' Seamus continued, as Ginny tried to hold her sides in and Hermione struggled to keep a straight face. 'I REALLY FANCY SOME CHOCOLATE. EVERYONE IS SO BUSY SACRIFICING MEAT FOR ME ALL THE TIME, IT DOES GET A BIT BORING YOU KNOW.'  
  
Draco rushed to where he thought the nearest room was, stalked through the door and shut it. Slytherin girls bathroom. Oh well, those stupid Griffindors must have made sure everyone was out of the way before pulling this stunt, so hopefully he shouldn't encounter any screaming girls in here. He fumbled around trying to find candles, shaking with anger, then remembered his wand, which he brought out of his pocket. 'Luminos!' he said, and lit up the bathroom long enough to find the candles and light them. Only then did he sit down and try to plot his revenge. What could he do which would be bad enough to punish them for this? More to the point, how was he going to stop them telling the whole school what had just happened? They'd broken a rule or two so could hardly just announce it, but news had a habit of spreading.  
  
'Turn the other cheek, Draco. Do not take revenge on someone who wronged you.' The voice echoed slightly against the bathroom walls.  
  
'Sod off Finnigan.' No, it didn't sound like Seamus, it sounded like Harry. 'Got you in on it as well, Potter? I might have known.' But he shivered to think of Harry so close in the dim light.  
  
'I'm not Harry, and you really are obsessed with him, aren't you?'  
  
'Who is it then, as if I cared.'  
  
'Not Harry, but I can see all your thoughts-'  
  
'No way. I know what you're getting at but NO WAY!'  
  
'I am your-'  
  
'Hey! I never asked for a conscience, sod off. I didn't realise it was part of the job description of a Christian. Get out of my head.'  
  
'I've always been here, Draco. But now you've been praying, and your mind is still, so you can hear me.'  
  
'And you sound like bloody Potter, great.'  
  
'Rather appropriate, actually. You always think of him as the archetype of good and your usual self as the archetype of evil. It's your own fault that whenever you say something moral it sounds like Harry, in that case.'  
  
'Potter, not Harry. We're not on first name terms you know, we're enemies.'  
  
'I think you're on more than first name terms, Draco. I'm in your head, remember? And, more importantly, I was on the Quidditch pitch. I say, vicar!'  
  
'Oh great. My conscience thinks he's a fucking comedian as well. GO. A. WAY.'  
  
The conscience began to hum a song irritatingly. 'You can't get rid of me,' he sang. 'This is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on my friend. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, I don't think that they'll ever stop, they'll never stop because this is the song that never ends, it just goes on and-'  
  
'Oh, I give up. Say what you're here to say and then get out.'  
  
'For once the Griffindors are in the wrong. You'd stopped bullying them but they didn't leave you alone. Now you have to show them you're bigger than they are. Don't take revenge. They will have to make an account to God, as will we all.'  
  
'But they'll think they've won!'  
  
'We all have to suffer for our faith, Draco. Perhaps your example will lead them onto nobler things.'  
  
'Nobler? Potter? If he gets any more noble, God's out of a job.'  
  
'I know your lust must be clouding your vision, but he does have his flaws you know.'  
  
'Oh, shut up! Lust clouding my vision indeed! If I don't take revenge, will you go away?'  
  
'For now.'  
  
'That's enough. Just don't try to interfere in every little decision in my life, or I will find a way to torture and kill you. I don't care if you're me.'  
  
* * *  
  
The Griffindors meanwhile were still rolling around laughing in the corridor.  
  
'Seamus!' Dean exclaimed. 'Whoever would have guessed you'd make such a good God.'  
  
'We'd better get out of here,' Hermione pointed out, still half trying to be disapproving.  
  
'Ok, ok, but you'll have to help me out, I'm not sure I can walk,' Ginny replied, to a fresh burst of giggles from Dean.  
  
The others were waiting for them in Griffindor tower.  
  
'How did it go?' squealed Lavender. Ginny narrated with interruptions from Seamus and Dean as the voices of God and Draco respectiviely.  
  
'Oh, I wish I had been there,' sighed Parvati.  
  
'Well I don't! You'd have giggled before we'd even started! That's why we left you behind,' Seamus reminded her.  
  
For once Lavender and Parvati bore this with good grace. It was hard to deny, really. Harry sat quietly in the corner, Ron next to him, silent and sober. Hermione shot them a worried glance, but didn't want to say anything in front of the others.  
  
'Hermione, you're a genius,' affirmed Seamus. 'If I didn't know you know every book ever written off by heart, I'd wonder how you came to know the bible so well.'  
  
'It's hardly an obscure story,' Hermione replied. 'And I was brought up a Christian.'  
  
'My Dad's Christian,' Seamus countered. 'But I'm almost totally ignorant.' There were mumbled sounds of agreement. Seamus rolled his eyes. 'I meant about Christianity in particular.'  
  
'Of course, and so did we,' Ginny said in a mock soothing voice.  
  
'I've often wondered actually,' Hermione began, to a chorus of groans. 'What?' she said.  
  
'We've known you too long, that's a cue that you're going to go all thinky,' Ron told her.  
  
'Thinky. You mean intelligent?'  
  
'That's the one.'  
  
'I've wondered,' she glared at them all. 'Why it is that in the wizarding world we follow the externals of religion but never really bother about the inside. I mean, take Christmas and Easter for example, we're expected to celebrate them without thinking about what they mean. I for one would quite welcome some religious education-'  
  
'You'd welcome anything that was more work,' Neville complained. 'I have quite enough problems with potions thank you.'  
  
'A little prayer in hall now and then wouldn't hurt-.'  
  
'What, and mess up Dumbledore's speeches?' Ron joked. 'Come on Hermione, we don't need another SPEW, why do you have to take everything as an Issue.'  
  
'How about CERP? Campaign for the Enforcement of Religious Propaganda,' Harry piped up from his corner.  
  
'Well actually-' Hermione began.  
  
The others began chattering as much as possible. 'Did you see Malfoy's face?' 'Do you think it will rain tomorrow?' 'I'm going to do some homework.' 'Oh look, it's almost time for tea.'  
  
Hermione gave up.  
  
* * *  
  
So Draco ignored that the Griffindors had ever tested his religious gullibility. The news did not spread farÐto a few of the Ravenclaw girls thanks to Parvati telling her sister, and down a year in Griffindor because Ginny's classmates demanded to know why she'd been hanging round the year above so much recently. But generally, their fear of being found out by a teacher stopped even Lavender and Parvati from gossiping. This did not make it more bearable for Draco, however. He was well used to the Griffindors shooting him filthy looks, but having them giggle every time he walked past was a new and highly unwelcome phenomena. Crabbe and Goyle did not notice, which was something. Draco found himself glad to have such oafs for friends. But some of the other Slytherins had, and were watching him curiously, without having the courage to ask him outright.  
  
Overall, the next few days for Draco were terribly unpleasant. He'd always kind of envied Harry his fame, but was beginning to see how people staring at you all the time was not actually that much fun. Luckily, he hadn't bumped into Potter yet, who seemed as anxious to avoid Draco's company as Draco was to avoid his. Draco had to keep reminding himself that it was Harry who had instigated The Kiss, and *why was Weasley staring at him like that?* Had Potter told him? No, he couldn't have. Anyway, it was Potter's fault. He, Draco, had merely been caught by surprise, unable to tear his shocked lips away. And, err, the dreams, they must just be because he was tense. Very vivid dreams. Well, he must be *very* tense then. If only there was some way of relieving that tension. . .  
  
And the opportunity came late one afternoon after a particularly troubled night's sleep. It had not escpaed the notice of the more gossip-focused section of the school that both Harry and Draco had bags under their eyes. Some of them claimed they had always suspected that the two fancied each other-their enmity must have stemmed from sexual tension, because young boys cannot hate each other without wanting to bed each other, of course. When McGonnagall noticed, she had no such gutter-worthy suspicions. She did, however, ask them to stay behind after Transfiguration, to numerous panicked glances from the Griffindors.  
  
When the other students had filed out, Professor McGonnagall came out from behind her desk and leaned herself against the front, staring at them both inquisitively.  
  
'Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, it is only to be expected that teenage boys occasinally do not perform to their best abilty. I feel it only fair to tell you that you have not today. I do not wish to pry into the reasons behind your lack of sleep-'  
  
They both looked relieved.  
  
'-unless you have a problem that I may be able to help you with. Otherwise, I shall presume that you are both under a lot of stress from the work for your OWLS. This is understandable, of course, since the pair of you could be capable of great things if you only get the required results on these exams. However, it is their very importance which makes it imperative that you get more sleep.'  
  
She peered at them over her spectacles befoe continuing.  
  
'Therefore, I am sending you both to Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping draught immediately.'  
  
Harry looked horrified at the idea of having to walk with Draco to the hospital wing.  
  
'Oh no, Professor, really, I'm fine, that would be far too much trouble.'  
  
'On the contrary,' she replied a little sharply. 'There will be a great deal more trouble if I find you have not picked up this potion, and if I do not see a marked improvement in time for our next lesson together.'  
  
Harry hung his head. 'Yes Professor,' he replied.  
  
'Yes Professor,' Draco echoed. He walked towards the door, with Harry filing behind him. By this time the corrodor was empty, everybody returned to their respective common rooms or the library before tea. They walked in silence for a few moments before Draco could not resist breaking the silence.  
  
'You must be very proud of that stunt you performed the other day. Bet you didn't tell your precious Griffindors why you wanted to embarass me, did you? What was it, upset I didn't kiss you back?'  
  
'That "stunt" wasn't my idea,' Harry muttered mutinously. 'And you didn't exactly pull away.'  
  
Draco faltered for a moment. 'I was shocked,' he replied. 'And I was the one to break it off.'  
  
'Yeah, yeah, everything's a competition for you isn't it? Who's the richest, who beats who at Quidditch, who's the most popular, who pulls away from kissing first. It must really piss you off that I beat you on all the important things. And you bloody must have seen that kiss coming Malfoy, or are you pretending to be all naive and innocent as well as dumb?'  
  
'What do you mean all the important things!' Draco exclaimed, wheeling round to face him. 'I'm rich, powerful, popular and *everyone* wants my body.'  
  
'But you want mine, so I must have something you don't. That wasn't what i meant though. I was thinking of friendship, goodness, bravery-'  
  
'Oh quit it Potter I'm not a fucking Griffindor or Hufflepuff. You missed out cunning. And my lineage goes back centuries. *Your* mum was a filthy mudblood.'  
  
They stared squarely at each other now, enraged. 'At least my mother loved me,' Harry spat back. 'Your parents don't give a shit about you, and quite frankly, I'm not surprised, I'd be embarassed to have you as a son.'  
  
'Didn't stop you kissing me though, did it, you bastard!' Draco screamed. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned around quickly. A gaggle of first year Hufflepuffs stood staring at them, some shocked and scared, others unable to conceal their joy at such a tasty morsel of gossip. 'And what are you staring at?' he roared. They fled. Draco grabbed Harry bodily by the front of his robes, flung open the nearest door (a broom-cupboard, luckily enough for the cliched literary slash device), and shoved him inside, slamming the door behind him.  
  
'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Harry demanded, in a slightly less authoritative tone than he would have liked, since Draco was currently pinning him down and he didn't like not being able to see in the dark.  
  
'We are going to talk this through,' he whispered menacingly. 'Get it out of the way. Without Potter-fans to run and tell tales to your Weasel about the nasty man.' 


	8. Slash in a broomcupboard

A/N Yes, you read right, slash in a broom cupboard PLUS the really obvious slash joke and unrealistically open angst, it's all here. Practically no religion in this one at all, but never fear, next chapter Draco's going back to Hogsmeade. I think. I really have no option but to dedicate this chapter, bad though it is, to Billie-Joe Charlton, whose rather risqué fanfic-art calendar has been musing me against my will :-)  
  
Chapter 8: Slash in a broom-cupboard! Among other things.  
  
'We are going to talk this out,' Draco whispered menacingly. 'Get it out of the way. Without Potter-fans to run and tell tales to your Weasel about the nasty man.'  
  
'Get what out of the way?' Harry replied defiantly. Draco smirked.  
  
'Well, the wand in your pocket to start with.'  
  
'What w-. Oh. Sod off.'  
  
'What was behind that little foray on the Quidditch pitch? You said you wanted to talk.'  
  
'I lied. I wanted to confuse and embarrass you so you'd leave my friends alone.'  
  
Draco's voice was level. 'So you knew I liked you and you thought you'd play with my feelings.'  
  
'No, I didn't know, Seamus persuaded me. And I was only trying to protect my friends.'  
  
'Oh, well that's much better. So you all sat around and laughed at me for liking you, and decided to turn my life, identity and religion upside down. To protect your friends. It didn't occur to you to Hex me, or tell the teachers, or have another slanging match. You see, this is the bad thing about loyalty. You stand by your friends but then you forget that those who aren't your friends are still people too. And we hurt just as much as you do. Even the baddies, even when we deserve it, it hurts just the same.'  
  
'Oh, don't be so self-involved. The innocent hurt too. What did Neville ever do to you that you bully him so? If you're so bothered about not hurting people, why do you lash out in all directions?'  
  
'Because people lash out from all directions at me. I don't expect you to have noticed, but I am actually making an effort here. I haven't done a thing to punish your friends for that latest prank.'  
  
'It's only a matter of time.'  
  
'Oh, great. And you wonder why people persist being baddies. Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy, Potter? You're in one of your very own. You're doomed to play the hero, even if your presence endangers. The baddies count on it, and they'll trick you by it.'  
  
Harry hung his head. 'They already did,' he said. 'You're only telling me what Hermione tried to.' He tried not to think about Sirius, how it was his "playing the hero" that got Sirius killed.  
  
Draco looked disconcerted for a moment, but then continued, his tone softer this time. 'You want to know what Neville did to me? He got you for a friend. You rejected me the *first day* at school, and I got stuck with Crabbe and Goyle just following me around. Neville's just the only one of your friends lets me get to him, and that's the only way I can get to you.' He barked a laugh suddenly. 'My, aren't I the self-analyst today. It's all this religion business, making me bloody reflective. I even got a visit from my conscience the other day.'  
  
Harry smiled in spite of himself. 'Your conscience?'  
  
'Yeah, I know, I didn't think I had one either. Bloody annoying it was too. Well.' He stretched his arms out in a "no weapons" gesture. 'This isn't quite what I had in mind when I pulled you into this broom cupboard and stop smirking Potter I wasn't thinking of that either but anyway it's out now. I guess the darkness makes me less inhibited. I said stop smirking! You have a dirty mind! ANYWAY here it is, my soul laid bare. (Yes, Potter, just my soul). If I can't trust you to do the noble thing I don't know who else there is. I mean it, Harry. You betray me now and I don't think I'll ever trust again. Come to think of it, I can't remember a time I trusted before. Ah well. There's always Jesus of course, he's pretty trustworthy. What do you think?'  
  
Harry paused. 'Can't we shout some more? The sexual tension was really rather fun.'  
  
'You git!' Draco laughed as Harry giggled. 'That's all you can say?'  
  
'Why waste time on speech?' Harry leaned in and took Draco's chin with his right hand. 'I'm not going to betray you, you idiot. I won't tell a soul.'  
  
Harry moved his hand back behind Draco's head and pulled him forward for a kiss. And then a few more kisses. . .  
  
'Take back what you said about my mother.'  
  
Draco pulled back. 'Since I'm trying to restrain myself from ripping your robes off with my teeth can we just assume I don't hate you and all past enmity stemmed from envy and desire?'  
  
'So you won't say it again?'  
  
Draco pulled further away. 'Oh come on, Potter. That's how we always argue. We'll be quarrelling about something or other and I'll bring up your mum and then you bring up my mum and then someone has to break us apart. Don't fight tradition-boys and men have been doing this for hundreds, probably thousands of years.'  
  
Harry moved round to nibble Draco's ear.  
  
'Yeek!' Draco exclaimed. 'Don't do that!'  
  
'Sorry.' Harry sounded concerned. 'Did I hurt you?'  
  
'No, it's just that if you do that again I'll probably promise you anything.'  
  
'Oh, shut up,' Harry replied, and kissed him.  
  
(Fade to black. A/N Well it was already pretty dark, but I guess our eyes adjusted. Fade to silence then. I don't think we need to know what happened next. Except they fell asleep, Harry with his head on Draco's chest - aww!)  
  
They awoke, 3 hours later to light streaming in through the door. Squinting up at the doorframe in shocked horror they beheld the figure of Professor McGonagall.  
  
'You found something more effective than sleeping potion then,' she remarked dryly.  
  
'P-P-Pr-Pr-' replied Harry.  
  
'You may be surprised to know that we have no rules about kissing. We do, however, have rules about disobeying teachers and the inappropriate use of broom cupboards.' She looked at them sternly. 'I hope I have discovered the cure and not the cause of your insomnia. On this hope, I will not punish you past deducting 5 points from your respective houses. Mr Potter, please return to your common room. Mr Malfoy, you will have to-.' She sighed. 'I will intercede with Professor Snape. You also will return to your common room.'  
  
'Th-Thank you Professor,' Draco managed. Harry nodded mutely.  
  
McGonagall turned to go. 'And your robes are inside out, Harry,' she muttered as a parting farewell.  
  
The two grinned shyly at each other and quickly gathered themselves together, Harry removing his outer robe again and turning it the right way out. Draco stuck his head out of the cupboard and surveyed the corridor. 'No-one there,' he reported. 'Come on out.' One quick kiss and they hurried off their separate ways. 'Hey, you kissed me in the light, Potter,' Draco called after Harry, who waved, and turned the corner.  
  
* * *  
  
The Griffindor Common Room was enjoying a rare evening of tranquillity. Seamus had gone to bed with a headache.  
  
Ron was thrashing Neville at chess. Their peers were working, at least theoretically (Lavender, bored, had started to plait Parvati's hair). Ginny was reading a book with her friends. The younger Griffindors were also making good use of the quiet - reading, working, or talking quietly. Seamus didn't get headaches often. There was even a game of Chinese whispers by the fire - impossible in usual conditions.  
  
Hermione looked up from her work as a beaming Harry entered the room. 'Harry!' she exclaimed. 'Where have you been? You weren't at Supper.'  
  
'Don't I know it!' he replied. 'I'm starving. Anyone got any spare chocolate frogs?'  
  
'Oh, Harry! Don't you want anything more substantial?'  
  
'No he doesn't!' interceded Ron. 'Chocolate frogs contain all the essential nutrients a young lad needs: Chocolate and . . . no, just chocolate.' He grinned at Harry. 'You can have some of mine, mate.'  
  
'Ta, Ron.' Harry took the frogs off Ron and sank into an armchair, still grinning. He bit into the first one and sighed with pleasure. Lavender looked up interestedly. 'You sound like a woman,' she remarked.  
  
'Chocolate releases the same brain chemicals as falling in love,' Harry said enigmatically.  
  
'You sound like Hermione,' giggled Lavender.  
  
'What are you grinning for?' asked Dean curiously.  
  
Harry stretched out luxuriously. 'Am I not allowed to revel in the company of my friends?'  
  
Hermione glanced up. 'You know, at another time I might be intrigued. As it is, I'm too fascinated by my homework. I'll find out eventually. I always do.'  
  
'I'll be the last to know,' sighed Neville. 'I always am.'  
  
'Is it a girl?' asked Lavender.  
  
'It's that new Hufflepuff beater, isn't it?' guessed Parvati.  
  
'Thank you, I'm not a paedophile,' Harry replied, but still grinning.  
  
'Please, please,' Ron said in a lofty voice. 'Move on, there's nothing to see here. Every girl in the school is after Harry. If he has had his wicked way with one of them, this is nothing to remark upon. I only hope he's being careful of the wizarding world will be overpopulated by little Harrys in a few years.'  
  
Harry blushed, but delivered a mock bow in Ron's direction. As he rose, Ginny caught his eye and smiled at him. He nodded slightly and smiled wider.  
  
'I bet you're knackered, aren't you, mate?' Ron asked sympathetically.  
  
'Am a bit,' Harry agreed, glad that Ron had joked him out of the difficult task of explaining where he'd been.  
  
'I am too, mate.' He moved a piece on the chessboard. 'Checkmate, mate,' he said to Neville, who groaned. 'That means I have to do my Potions homework now,' Neville said. The dormitory curtains were still open and the moonlight fell over the beds nearest the window. Only Seamus' bed was occupied. 'Seamus,' Ron said, walking down to the end of the dorm. 'Hey, Seamus!' There was no answer. 'Good,' Ron said, his voice low. 'And no first years around either. Well then.'  
  
He turned to Harry, who walked over to him. 'Harry. I'm glad to see you're smiling again. I don't need to know why. Hermione's better at the talking thing.'  
  
'No Ron, Harry replied. 'I want to tell you. You won't believe it - and you might not like it - but I feel I'll burst if I don't tell you.' Ron sat down on Harry's bed, followed by Harry.  
  
'Well,' Harry began nervously. 'It wasn't a girl, it was. . . Draco.'  
  
'Malfoy? I thought something was weird between you since. . . I thought you liked girls, though.'  
  
Harry grinned again. 'It seems I like both. You don't mind?'  
  
'I've been thinking since - you know. I don't like the bastard but as long as you're smiling. . . If he breaks your heart, I will kill him,' Ron replied matter-of-factly. Harry impetuously hugged him. 'Geroff,' came Ron's muffled voice from Harry's neck. 'Save it for darling Draco, can't you.'  
  
* * *  
  
Draco's face contorted. He was happy, and this was attempting to manifest itself in a smile but somehow, in the presence of the other Slytherin, his face kept warping into a cold gloat. This really did no justice to his feelings, so he tried again. Nope, a sneer this time. This endeavour was repeated several times in quick succession. Goyle watched with dim-witted interest. He whispered to Crabbe next to him on the sofa.  
  
'What's he so angry about, do you think?'  
  
Crabbe gazed stupidly at Malfoy. 'Is he angry? I mean, more than usual?' he whispered back.  
  
'Course he is. He can barely contain himself.' At this point, Draco's face tried a new tactic - the open mouth smile. 'See!' Goyle said triumphantly. 'He's baring his teeth with rage!'  
  
'Well,' said Crabbe slowly. 'It'll be Potter, won't it. No-one gets him so hot and bothered as Potter.'  
  
Draco has closed his eyes, and was smiling properly, blissfully, again.  
  
'Is it Potter?' asked Goyle loudly.  
  
Draco jumped. 'What?' he asked guiltily, eyes wide open now. Goyle looked worried.  
  
'I only. . . are you angry at Potter?'  
  
Draco sighed with relief. 'No,' he said simply. 'I'm not angry at all.'  
  
Crabbe and Goyle looked predictably confused.  
  
* * *  
  
'I swear it's true! That's what he said! I heard it with my own ears!'  
  
'Of course you did. You really ought to see Madam Pomfrey to get your ears syringed.'  
  
A nearby 3rd year Hufflepuff girl tittered. 'Come on, Joseph. Harry and Malfoy snogging? Next you'll be telling us McGonagall and Snape are secretly in love.'  
  
'But Caroline heard it too,' insisted Joseph. 'And Michael Hessel, and Chad, and Helen.'  
  
The other boy laughed. 'Of course! I'm sure you're all in on it together. Well you won't fool me, little Jo. I remember you telling mum about the hippopotamus in the sky.'  
  
'I was 8 then,' Joseph muttered mutinously. 'Damnit! What's the good in having some juicy gossip if nobody will believe you.'  
  
* * *  
  
A/N It's just too good to last isn't it, mwahahaha. That's the situation not the writing ;-) 


	9. Confusing Hermione

A/N here we go, not very much religion, slash or humour here, but I got to get myself back into the swing of things. Archibald is back in the next chapter. Oh and for people who read my lj (I'm herringprincess, surprisingly enough), this first paragraph was actually written weeks ago and has no relation to current feelings and events in my life, it is merely an observation I have made at various times in my life. Oh and I am not under payment from lush, I just like their stuff

Chapter 9

There are those for whom romance is a distraction from all other elements of life. Such people would often maintain that this is of the very essence of love - the intoxication from the very being of the other, the feeling that transcends all feelings. But there are also those for whom romance serves as an enhancement to other areas of life. Being in the presence of the other produces oxytocin, and oxytocin brings pleasure. It is perfectly natural to revel in pleasure and that which brings pleasure. It is equally understandable if pleasure, causing a sense of well being and satisfaction, allows one to fully engage with the world. Both of our boys were of this latter category.

It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was awake. She snuggled down in her bed and watched the delicate light of early morning stretching its fingers through the windows. She allowed herself a lie-in on Saturdays, but just a little one. Five more minutes and then she would get up. She would go to the library and read up on that potion Snape had been talking about on Wednesday- it sounded fascinating. Hermione enjoyed her little lie-ins, but was not usually sorry to get up, because she loved to go to the library without having any formal homework to do.

Thus she was cheerily humming quietly as she entered the library half an hour later. There were the same people here as usual - she nodded at a third year Ravenclaw girl who always sat in the Herbology section every Saturday morning, smiled encouragingly at a first year Hufflepuff boy who had been spending more time than usual in the library recently, and with a combination of smiles and nods at various others, made her way over to the Potions section. And started.

'Harry!' she exclaimed, loudly. Eyes from all round the silent library stared at her and she looked down, blushing. He looked up from the desk he was sitting at. 'What are you doing here?' she asked, in a whisper.

'I'm just reading up on that potion Snape was talking about on Wednesday - it sounded fascinating, don't you think?'

'Er-I suppose so,' Hermione replied distractedly. Puzzlement spread across her features again. 'Um, but, it's Saturday,' she added, confused.

'I know, I've got Quidditch practise later, but not for a couple of hours. How about you? What are you here for?'

'Oh- I always- I mean-' she looked wistfully at the potion book Harry was reading. 'I just wanted to look up about. . . Transfiguration. . .'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'I'd have thought you'd know your way round the library by now, Hermione. Transfiguration books are round there. This is Potions.'

'Yes. . . of course. . . Yes. . .' Still coming to terms with Harry doing extra work, a thought suddenly struck her. 'Don't you have homework to do?'

'Oh yes. Tons.' He beamed at her as though the prospect was delightful. 'I slept so well last night, you know. Think I'll try and do the whole lot today actually. Get it out the way.' For some reason this made him giggle. 'Get it out of the way,' he murmured appreciatively. 'Wand in my pocket! Ha!'

Hermione stared at him as though he had gone stark raving bonkers, and shuffled over to the Transfiguration section. Before she could get there, however, she had an even bigger shock. Someone in a green and silver robe was sidling into the Muggle studies section. Muggle studies! Slytherins never took Muggle Studies - why would they want to learn about a people they despise? She crept over for a closer look and saw. . . .

'Draco Malfoy!' Hermione exclaimed suspiciously. 'What are you doing in here?' Draco leapt a full foot into the air and swung round, terror on his face.

Draco too had been awake to greet the dawn. He had slept like a baby through the night except that, unused to happiness, he had awoken early with the idea that something bad must be about to happen. He had got to thinking and had found that, to his great surprise, his religious fervour had not left him now that he no longer wanted to smite the Gryffindors. He needed to see Archibald as quickly as possible. Archibald had been quite insistent on the unnatural passions, but Draco could not accept that.

He needed to make room in his head for both Harry and God. Luckily, there was a Hogsmeade trip on Sunday. But what to do with the Saturday? There was only one thing for it. He needed to find the book. Not any of the rubbish Archibald had given him. The book. But where could he find it in a Wizard school?

Replies soared through Malfoy's head, each one rejected in turn.

'None of your business, you filthy little mu-' no, upsetting Harry's friends probably wasn't the best idea in the circumstances. Besides which, he was pretty sure his conscience would turn up later to tell him how Jesus would never have said such nasty things. Bugger.

How about the truth? 'I'm just looking for the bible.' Hmmm. She'd think he was wanting to smite again. Unless he explained he wanted to gain inspiration over the homosexuality issue. And then she might guess. . . No, that wouldn't do either.

But lying, he seemed to recall, entailed being dipped in pools of hot lava after his demise. Or was that pools of hot chocolate? Well, either probably wouldn't be very pleasant. Unless it was drinking hot chocolate by a pool? No, that didn't seem right.

Best not to say anything at all.

'Are you spying on Harry?' Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

'Harry? No. Why, is he here?' Draco looked around curiously.

'Never you mind!' Hermione snapped. 'You stay away from him. He doesn't want you anywhere near him. He's been much happier since you left him alone.'

Some of the swagger came back to Draco's chest. Had Harry really been happier since . . ? He smirked. He knew the cause of that happiness better than silly old Granger. He was one red-hot lover. He was sex in green robes. He was the stud of the Quidditch field. He was. . . He realised Hermione was glaring at him.

'You have nothing to worry about,' Draco replied. 'Or at least, perhaps you do, but nothing you know about. So forget about it. Now if you don't mind, this is a library and I for one would like to read a book.' He sauntered off down the aisle, confident she would be stumped by the implication that she was distracting people from their work, and hence she wouldn't follow him and see which book he picked up. True enough, she only stood open-mouthed at his retreating figure for a few seconds, before making her way dazedly over to the Transfiguration section again.

He'd tried to begin at the beginning but he'd had to skip bits and skim bits - there were only so many begats a boy could take. He was reading Exodus when he heard a familiar whisper behind him.

'Want to watch me play Quidditch?'

Draco looked at the text in front of him. 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass,' -he thought he'd be ok at the practice not coveting any wives or maids, but Harry's manservant and ass were another matter.

'No,' he whispered back. 'I'd better stay in here. I've got a lot to get through.'

Harry sighed. 'Tired of me already,' he sighed jokingly. 'Ah well, it was too good to last I suppose.' He looked around to check if anyone was looking, then gently turned Draco's face around to the side, stooping down and forward to kiss his mouth. 'Bye then.'

Harry sauntered off, positively glowing. Draco watched him, troubled. He certainly wasn't tired of Harry, but there might be some truth in that other part - it was too good to last. What would happen when people found out? Could he find a way to reconcile religion and passion? So far God hadn't seemed to be the most tolerant of deities. Draco's head felt far too busy. He needed a bath. He had just the thing - a rainbow worrier from lush. Watching that ballistic fizz away in the bathwater, guessing what colour it would make the water. . . that would be just the thing.

When he returned to the library later that day, he went back for the King James Bible in the Muggle Studies section. But this time he turned to the New Testament.


	10. False Christians

A/N Next chapter's almost finished too, so stay tuned :-)

I feel I ought to sing the praises of the unbound bible, which holds various translations online in which one can search for key words or phrases as well as books. Very handy if your memory isn't quite so sharp as Archibald's, but you want to quote. Link disappeared when I uploaded so search google for unbound bible.

Chapter 10: False Christians

Yet again, Draco had given Crabbe and Goyle the slip in Hogsmeade. He had told them that there was a new, limited edition lollipop in Honeyduke's, and they had not even noticed he stopped behind as they ran there. Now, finding Archibald, that was more the problem. Draco was hovering around on the street he had first seen him, but felt more than a little conspicuous as the other students wandered past him, chatting in groups. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked by. Ron's face went bright red with the effort of not staring at Malfoy, Hermione shot Malfoy a glare and looked as though she wanted to say something, and Harry gave him a shy grin. He smiled weakly back when Hermione wasn't looking. He watched them walk away. He wanted to run up behind them, embrace Harry and somehow - by some strange means or other - make Ron and Hermione not hate him. He felt his resolve weaken and inwardly chastised himself. Don't be so weak! They wouldn't welcome you even if you did follow them. Harry's still keeping you a secret, he must be ashamed.

Just then, he caught a glimpse of a placard, sailing high above the student's heads. It read "Flee fornication. Every sin that a man doeth is without the body; but he that committeth fornication sinneth against his own body (1Cor 6:18)." It was Archibald. Draco's heart sank. From the message on the placard, it was not looking good.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

'I don't trust Malfoy.'

'Really? I'd never have guessed.'

'What do you mean, Ron? You don't trust him either.' Hermione looked suspiciously at him.

'Well. . . You know, it's old news. Maybe we should leave him for a bit. He's probably still embarrassed.'

'No,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'No, he's up to something. He keeps looking at us, and I saw him in the Muggle Studies section yesterday, and he still hasn't tried to get revenge on us yet.

"An eye for an eye would only end up in making the whole world blind," Harry muttered. They stared at him. "It's Mahatma Gandhi," he said.

"It's what?" asked Ron.

"You know, I really think the wizarding world should pay more attention to muggle affairs," Harry sighed.

"An eye for an eye. . . That's very. . . Biblically focused,' was Hermione's response. "Have you been thinking about this religion stuff, Harry?"

"Ah well," Ron interrupted. "We've all got to contemplate our meaning and purpose sometimes. Talking of which, Harry, do you think the purpose of Honeydukes is sweets or chocolate?"

Hermione shut up. She had begun to suspect everyone now. They were all acting so strangely.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

'So,' Draco finally managed as Archibald stopped for air. Archibald had been very vocal about the sins of sodomy, and the perils of sin, and the hot fiery pokers that awaited the rectums of its practitioners, and Draco was beginning to get annoyed. 'This is the standard Christian teaching, is it?'

'It is the true Christian teaching.'

'And all Christians believe that do they?'

Archibald sniffed. 'All the true Christians.'

Draco rolled his eyes ever so slightly. 'And the other Christians?'

Archibald took a dramatic deep breath, held it, and went purple. 'The false Christians!' he exclaimed in a pompous booming voice that echoed around the Three Broomsticks, making Draco hide his face in shame. 'Ahhhhh the false Christians,' Archibald repeated in a low voice. 'Hideous are the fates that await the false Christians. For does it not say in the blessed book of Revelation (19:20) "And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet that wrought miracles before him, with which he deceived them that had received the mark of the beast, and them that worshipped his image. These both were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone."'

'False prophets isn't what I-' Draco began.

'"But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction."(2 Peter 2:1). "For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light." (2 Corinthians 11:13)'

'You really do have an excellent memory don't you,' Draco sighed. As if to prove Draco's point, our dear friend Mr Beanstead continued.

'"Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity." (Matthew 7:21-23).'

That one rang a bell with Draco. Matthew being the first book of the New Testament, he had managed to get past chapter 7. 'Can I have a look at that for a minute?' he asked.

'What?'

'I mean, that was inspiring, I'd love to read that chapter again.'

Archibald beamed at him and handed over his highlighted bible. Draco opened it up, turned to Matthew chapter 7, and scanned down the page:

"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?. . . Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them."

'Interesting,' Draco murmured. 'Do please continue, brother,' he said louder to Archibald. 'You were saying about these false Christians.'

'Such as the liberals,' Archibald spat. 'They just believe what they want to believe.'

'And - er - where do the false Christians hang out on a Sunday morning?'


	11. Love your enemies, love and enmity

A/N More on its way soon. My apologies to all RL and LJ friends who have to put up with me.

Chapter 11: Love your enemies, love and enmity.

'Hi!' said a thin young lady wearing a pink angora cardigan. 'You're new. Have you just moved here?'

Draco looked embarrassed. Everyone in the room looked like Hufflepuffs, and he was beginning to wonder if the brimstone wasn't more him after all. Not doling it out - he'd accepted now that if there was fire and brimstone, he was going to be the one getting it. But maybe. . . Just maybe, if heaven was a big Hufflepuff convention, the brimstone would be preferable.

'Er, no,' he said weakly. 'I'm at the school.'

'Hogwarts!' pink angora said. 'I remember Hogwarts. I was in Hufflepuff, you know. Lovely days I had in Hogwarts.'

'Um. . . Quite,' Draco managed. Luckily, another member of the congregation came to rescue him. Unluckily, it was a middle-aged bespectacled man wearing a badge that said 'Jesus Loves You.' He spoke in an impossibly gentle voice. 'Hello. Who is this, Clymelda?'

'He's at the school,' she replied, enthusiastically.

'I'm Draco,' Draco said.

'Ah, Draco,' beloved badge said. 'We must be careful not to wake you.'

Clymelda laughed. 'The school motto, you know,' she added, seeing that Draco did not laugh.

'I know.'

Beloved badge cleared his throat and tried a new tactic. 'We're a very small community here. But you know, as Jesus said in Matthew 18, "where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Most Sundays we just meet up, chat and say a few prayers together. Randall, our priest, comes round every few weeks to do a sermon. He has other communities to see to as well.'

'Sometimes,' Clymelda piped up, 'We go and hear his other sermons. Apparate you know. But we like the community spirit with there being just a few of us.' She grinned. 'And we all get on so well together.' Beloved badge turned and smiled at her. They smiled benignly at each other for a few moments. Draco felt sick. It took a supreme effort of will not to turn and run. Instead, he came straight out with it.

'Is God ok with homosexuality?'

They looked a little startled, but recovered well.

'Well Draco,' began beloved badge. 'God loves us for who we are. The God of the New Testament, the God that Jesus presents to us as a superseding of the old ideas of God, is a God of love, not of wrath. He tells us to love one another as he has loved us. No greater love has a man than that he lays down his life for his friends, as Jesus did for us. And not only our friends - we must even love our enemies.'

Love our enemies? Well, that was the plan, anyway, Draco thought. 'So it's ok?' he persisted hopefully.

'In modern times, the holy Spirit must guide us to what is right for each of us. You might well decide that it is acceptable,' he concluded reluctantly.

That was all Draco needed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Anyway,' Harry said deliberately later that day. 'I've got to go and do some stuff. Buy some boring things.' He looked meaningfully at Ron.

'Ah, right,' Ron replied conspiratorially. 'Hermione, lets go to the book shop and leave Harry.'

Hermione scowled. 'If you want to be alone, Harry, you can just say.'

'He does,' Ron confirmed.

'Well thank you very much, because I'd never have noticed.' Hermione said sarcastically.

'Bye then,' Harry said, and walked off. He didn't really want to stay for a Ron-Hermione bicker, they were such a married couple sometimes. Besides, he had things to do.

Ron took a deep breath. 'Book shop then?' he asked brightly. He turned to go.

'Ronald Weasley! You are going to tell me what's going on. Right NOW!'

Ron started and turned around, looking annoyed. 'Don't _do_ that to me Hermione. You sounded just like my mum.'

'And don't you change the subject. What's going on with Harry?'

The word 'nothing' died on Ron's lips. He sighed. 'I can't tell you,' he said. 'It's Harry's secret.'

'But _you_ know it!'

'But he_ told_ me.'

Hermione, if it was possible, looked even more annoyed. 'Well why didn't he tell me, then? _I'm_ the one to talk to, you're the one who hangs around looking stupid in the background and saying "mate." What kind of a role reversal is this?'

'I never heard you say "mate" in your life,' Ron consoled her. Her eyes narrowed.

'Why am I being left out of this?'

Ron tried his best to explain. 'You've been so busy working we don't like to trouble you.' He looked anxious. 'I mean, not that you're a boring workaholic or anything. And it's not like you've not always been busy working, but this year you seem to do nothing else. The only time you talk about anything but homework these days is to slag off Draco Malfoy.' With a feeling of having said too much - having spoken too strongly, put his foot in it with Hermione, and mentioned Malfoy's name - Ron stopped. He turned bright red and tried to make urgent reparation, without success. 'Er - not that it's a bad thing to work hard. Or slag off Malfoy. Er - mate?

She turned away so he couldn't see the tears well up in her eyes. 'I'll be off back to the castle, then,' she said in a distant voice. 'To do my homework.' And she trudged off. Ron stared at her retreating back, open-mouthed. Women were so easy to offend.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco had stayed a while longer at the meeting. He had talked to Clymelda and beloved badge, whose real name had turned out to be Peter, without outwardly gagging. He had also been talked at by a loud boisterous hippy woman who had apparently studied theology at a Muggle University as part of a year in industry for her Muggle Studies degree. He had come out slightly repelled, but feeling more comfortable overall. Draco wanted to see Harry but, since he could not imagine tearing Harry away from his cronies, had resigned himself to a quiet Butterbeer. Thankfully, Archibald had left. Draco was pleasantly surprised to see Harry come in to the Three Broomsticks, alone. Harry beamed and made his way over.

'I've been looking all over for you!' he exclaimed. 'Where have you been?'

'Church,' Draco mumbled.

'Everything alright?' Harry asked, cocking his head on one side.

So thoughtful! Draco exclaimed in his head. So kind! So considerate! How cute he looked with his head tilted like that. How gorgeous did he look in his jumper, the suggestion of potential muscles under all those layers somehow more provocative than the seeing of the muscles themselves. Not, of course, that he would object to the jumper being taken off. Oh bugger, he should probably reply to what Harry had just said. What was it again? Oh yes.

'Fine,' Draco said blankly. He saw that some people were staring at them. 'Er. . . Perhaps we should behave a little more in character.'

Harry saw the stares from the corner of his eye. 'Right,' he said. 'Ok.' He gritted his teeth, and widened his stance. 'How does this look?' he uttered through the teeth.

Draco lounged back in his chair, stretched his arm over the back of the chair and tried to look bored. 'Not too bad, Potter,' he drawled. 'And how about me?'

'Oh, casually sexy as always,' Harry growled. 'You know, I've not really noticed before but this set-up isn't really fair.'

Draco looked amused. He raised one eyebrow. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'Well, I have to stand here all flustered and you get to lounge about looking laidback.'

'I can hardly help it if I make you flustered, Potter.'

Harry's mouth twitched slightly. 'If you make me laugh, that will look _really_ suspicious.'

'Well, you'll just have to make sure you don't then, won't you _darling_.'

'Stop.' Harry's teeth were really gritted now, but not to stop rage.

Draco forced his face to become hard and cold. 'As you wish,' he said. 'You muggle-loving stupid Gryffindor.'

'Cold-hearted Slytherin.'

Draco's drawl came back, and he rolled his eyes. 'Oh you _know_ that's not true, you of _all_ people. You have come closer to my (_ahem_) heart than most.'

'I can't take much more of this,' Harry said, his features contorted with suppressed laughter, the kind of laughter that only tries to surface because it shouldn't. 'So I'll tell you this now. I'm going to storm out. Wait a few minutes and then meet me in that clump of trees between here and the shrieking shack.'

'In a few minutes, in the woods, we'll shack up and shriek. Got it.'

Harry couldn't help it. He exploded. He turned the laugh into a roar inexpertly. 'You watch yourself Malfoy! Or they'll be scraping you off the walls.' He stalked out immediately, missing Draco's reply.

'Tsk, tsk. Forceful, eh? If anyone's going to be up against the wall its you, Potter.'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A hand reached out to pull Draco's own as he sidled into the trees. He was whirled around, face to face with Harry. Harry was laughing.

'You'll be the death of me,' he said. Draco grinned, but felt a shiver down his spine. They were meant to be enemies, after all. How proud his father would be if he were responsible for the death of the Boy Who Lived. He shoved the thought out of his mind with some force, leaning forwards to kiss Harry's smiling lips, also with some force.

Harry's eyelids fluttered open as they broke apart. 'No wisecrack?' he asked, teasingly.

Draco could feel Harry's warm breath on his face in the cold air. 'It's my day off,' he said, and led Harry further into the copse. Soon he was lost in Harry; his hands running through Harry's hair, his body pressed against Harry's own, and their mouths locked together.

Almost lost. At the back of his mind, one single sentence hovered, vying for his attention.

'They believe what they want to believe.'

He pushed it away, and pulled Harry closer.


	12. Ginny plays agony aunt

I wasn't going to post this for a while, because I seem to be writing faster than people can read. But, it transpires my friend Helen is in fact up to date with this and hungry for fanfic in general._ So, **Helen**, this is for you_. Alas no slash :-) just lots of Ginny. I wanted to fit all this in one chapter, you'll see why. That's why it's quite long, for me.

**Chapter 12: Ginny plays agony aunt**

The problem with Hogwarts, the real problem with Hogwarts, was that there was nowhere to pray.

Okay, so that wasn't the only problem with Hog warts - in fact, compared to monsters coming from the forbidden forest every now again, the excessive cost of books and equipment, strict teachers and - worst of all - Peeves, it didn't come very high up on most students' list of problems. But when you want to pray, and there's nowhere to pray, no problem seems worse.

Draco had been avoiding Harry for three days now. He kept hearing Archibald in his head. Was it his conscience again? It seemed to have much less of a sense of humour, if so. It just kept repeating, 'it's what you want to believe.' Over and over again. Monotonous, repetitive, and bloody annoying. So he'd hit on the idea of praying - but that was easier said than done. The dormitory and common room were out of the question, of course. He didn't quite like the idea of praying on the toilet. The astronomy tower was. . . generally in use. A fair amount of moons were exhibited, but star-gazing was pretty minimal.

He strutted his way around the grounds, just in case someone was watching. Which, generally, there was. He just couldn't understand it - it was freezing! Why couldn't the buggers just stay inside, snuggled in front of the fire. That was where he'd prefer to be. He tried not to think about snuggling next to somebody in front of a fire, and kept walking.

* * *

Harry also wanted to be alone. Draco had been avoiding him now for three days, and he didn't know why. Lovely though Ron was, he wasn't quite the ideal person to discuss romantic relationships with. Harry had considered talking to Hermione, but she had been working even harder than usual these last few days. So now he had wandered up to the dormitory. One thing Ron was good for, and that was blind support. He had asked Ron to try and keep people away from the dormitory, and that was what Ron was doing. Unfortunately, however, after 20 minutes or so, he heard the door open as he lay on the bed.

'Merlin!' Harry thought. 'Can't I just be left alone?' He looked up to see who it was, dreading that it might be Seamus come to grill him on his sex-life. Instead he saw Ginny. He sat bolt upright.

'Ginny!' he exclaimed obviously. 'This is the boy's dormitory, you shouldn't be in here.'

'What are you doing, masturbating furiously?' she said, rolling her eyes.

'Well, maybe not furiously,' Harry admitted.

She giggled. 'Ron sent me up here.'

'Ron?'

'Yes, Ron. You might find out why if you stopped saying really obvious, pointless things, like "Ron?" and "Ginny!"'

'Oh I wouldn't say Ron was pointless. Obvious sometimes, but not pointless.'

She stooped to throw a pillow at him. 'Git,' she said jokily. 'And I am, by implication. If he's so obvious, what am I sent here for?' She put her hands on her hips.

'To make silly jokes about masturbation?'

'No, not specifically. I must admit you're in better spirits than I anticipated. Actually, he sent me up here to talk to you. I told him yesterday I knew what's going on, and he seemed quite relieved. Muttered something about me being a woman and good at this sort of thing.'

'Ah,' Harry said non-commitally.

She sat down on Ron's bed. 'So come on then,' she said. 'What are you fussing about? Has Malfoy decided to remain a virgin till marriage?'

'No,' Harry said. 'Or at least, I wouldn't know. He's blanking me.'

'Bugger,' she replied sympathetically, her head tilted to an encouraging angle.

'I don't know why,' Harry continued. 'And I don't know what to do about it. And I don't know how I feel about it. And I'm just confused.'

Ginny sat for a few moments, waiting to see if Harry would continue. When he didn't she said, 'He's probably confused too. He is having to deal with two new relationships - you and God - there's bound to be some complications.'

Harry sighed. 'I don't know,' he said dejectedly. 'I don't even know why I'm bothered. What kind of an idea is it anyway to get romantically involved with your enemy? A stupid idea, I guess. I bet that's what he's thinking too. I should just pull myself together, I know.'

Her face serious now, she reached out and touched his hand. 'Don't ever say that,' she said softly. 'No-one could say you've not had a lot to deal with, and now this too. You're being very brave.'

He turned his face to look at her slowly. 'Ginny?' he said.

'Mmm?'

'You've always been so nice to me.'

She looked puzzled. 'I guess?'

'No, really. You're so nice.' He leaned forwards and she reached over to hug him.

Before she knew what had happened he was kissing her. Her eyes started wide open in surprise and she sat there, paralysed for a few seconds before pulling away. Her face was flushed bright red, clashing with her hair. 'Harry!' she managed. 'Wha-?' He looked surprised for a moment, and then went red too. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He turned away, burying his face in his pillow. 'I'm sorry' he said, muffled. She stared at him a few moments more, then stood up abruptly and walked out quickly.

* * *

The cool night air was delicious on her hot cheeks. She did not care where she was walking, only that it was far away from the Gryffindor tower. At first, she strode quickly, but her pace soon slowed and she tried to assemble her thoughts.

Harry! What had possessed him! He had made it clear years ago that he had no interest in her, and she no longer had that kind of interest in him. Or so she had thought. It is difficult to withdraw affection from an object on which it has been totally fixated. Her interest in him was mainly of a benevolent kind now: she had moved on. But she had not expected to be suddenly kissed by him in such a manner. She found it more bizarre than exciting. And strangely embarrassing - he was so obviously on the rebound. Only one tiny part of her wondered what might have been, and it was wondering what might happen in the future.

Alas, it was not concentrating on the present, and she did not notice Malfoy till she was almost on top of him.

* * *

Another sodding student! Go away! Malfoy picked up his feet, which were scuffing along on the ground, and prepared himself for a good swagger past whoever it was. As he got closer he caught a glimpse of a Gryffindor scarf. . . . Then some red hair. Weasley! Just what he didn't need. Oh, that Weasley. That wasn't so bad. In fact, maybe he could gauge something from her about Harry. No, no, he wasn't supposed to be worrying about Harry. He was supposed to be worrying about his faith. But if he couldn't find anywhere to pray. . . What harm was there in being concerned? With this end in mind he walked towards, rather than past her.

* * *

She jumped. 'Malfoy!' she exclaimed.

'Weasley,' he retorted. He paused.

Strange, how so few Hogwarts encounters were one-on-one. The two of them had never been face to face without their entourage before. The usual insults and hostility were not forthcoming, as each felt compelled from duty to Harry to be nice to the other. Draco stood looking lost, and Ginny wanted to tell him that Harry was ok, but, well, she couldn't, not after what had just happened. Draco looked more and more awkward with time as he realised the pause was going on for far too long. His head was shouting conflicting advice to him, and he couldn't decide which to listen to.

Just ask her how he is. It's a simple question. No, no, she'll get suspicious. Everyone will get suspicious. She's already getting suspicious. Quick, insult her. No, no, we don't want to do that now, do we. Who's we? Who are all you strange people in my head? Shhh, Draco, we're discussing serious business here. Think of something to say. Anything to say! Like what? I don't know, anything. Oh, very helpful, I don't think. Don't ask how Harry is. No, do ask her. No, you should be trying to forget about him. It's a sin. Bollocks is it. Oh yeah, why do you feel so guilty then? Guilty? Me? You got to be kidding. Ha! Yes, you. Oh, I don't know, could be I keep changing directions so many times I'm bound to be wrong somewhere. Yeah, yeah, and all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. What? It's Paul. How do you know that? It's quite a famous quote. Yeah, but I don't know it - how do you know it if you're me. Are you me? Of course I'm you, stupid. You probably just forgot it. There's lots of stuff down here in your subconscious. What if I don't want it there? Oh come on, Draco, we're trying to make a decision here. See, she's looking at you really strangely. Make a decision. Are you going to ask her about Harry? I can't. It's a sin to be thinking about him. Well, what then?

An idea suddenly struck Malfoy. 'You're a girl,' he said to her.

Ginny looked taken aback. 'Um. . . . yes,' she replied, puzzled. And then she saw it coming. She just had time to think 'oh no, not again' before Draco lurched forward and kissed her, forcefully.

* * *

Eventually, Ginny found her way to the girl's dormitory. Trust her luck to be Malfoy's guilt-fuelled experiment into the possibility of heterosexual desire. What a day! She knew she shouldn't really complain - she would be the envy of the female half of the school if they knew she had just kissed the top two heart-throbs of Hogwarts in the space of an hour, even if they had been thinking of each other at the time. But she just wanted to lie down, go to sleep, and forget about it. Or at least clear her head.

The door to the girl's dormitory opened.

Hermione poked her head in.

'Ginny,' she said. 'Can I talk to you?'

'As long as you don't try and kiss me.'

Hermione looked confused. 'I really like you, Ginny, but not in that way.'

'Don't ask why I'm really glad to hear it,' Ginny said.

Hermione wrung her hands and spoke nervously. 'I just wanted to talk to somebody. Harry and Ron are keeping secrets from me and I don't know how to find out what's going on.'

'You don't want to know, trust me.' Oh shit.

'You mean YOU know too?' Hermione asked incredulously, her face distorted into a mask of shock and betrayal. 'Who - they - how - you - you too?' her face screwed up and she turned and stumbled out of the dormitory.

'Oh shit,' Ginny said out loud.

* * *

a/n Ginny not a Mary-Sue. You don't believe me, do you? Not when I'm giving her so much action ;-) I just felt like being silly (now there's a surprise). There was a character in the last chapter who was almost a Mary Sue for me - but me as I imagine myself to be when I'm middle-aged (the fat boisterous hippy woman). So I cut her involvement in the story somewhat. Ginny's my favourite character in HP. Me and Ginny do have one thing in common which draws me to her as a character, and that is the paradoxical simultaneous extroversion/introversion (see !shyGinny of book 2 and !cheekyGinny of book 5) but other than that, not really an awful lot. I think I'm more like Lupin than anyone, to be honest. There's got to be a reason for my strange desire for tweed. Tweeeeeeeed.

Sorry Hermione didn't get it on with Ginny too! I wouldn't pair Ron or Hermione with anyone else, except possibly on occasion to make the other jealous. I will try and get some femslash in by the end, just for the complete set :-) Oh the gratuitousness can only get worse, believe you me. I wonder how many people Ginny can get it on with?

Heheheheh.

Poor Hermione! She will explode soon.


	13. Tension Mounts

**Chapter 13: Tension mounts**

A/N: Includes slash with our boys again, huzzah. Also, the most gratuitous piece of femslash known to man, with a fairly unlikely pairing….

One day I'll stop apologising every time I post a chapter…yeah, the day I write something good, that's when. Anyway, sorry. For the gratuitousness…..

* * *

If this were a proper story, the Gryffindor common room would have been deathly quiet. Tumbleweed would have blown across the room, and no one would have said 'why the hell is that tumbleweed inside?' They would merely have accepted the imagery of tense silence.

It would be nice if it were quiet, like in a proper story, but just you try telling that to Seamus.

'I swear I can! With my nose.'

Neville gave him a sceptical look. 'With your nose?'

Seamus nodded vigorously, his hair bobbing a little. He was due for a haircut. 'I can! Ever since I was tiny.'

A piercing giggle rang out from the other side of the room. 'He never did!' exclaimed Parvati squeakily. Lavender leaned forward. 'He did!' she said triumphantly, 'and what's more, he-' she leaned further forward and spoke in a low voice.

It was a regular evening in the Gryffindor common room. Pockets of noise, pockets of silence – socialising and homework – a plethora of emotions in a confined space, because they are mostly teenagers after all.

And in one corner, our heroes sat. Harry gazed out of the window with a melancholy air, his arms wrapped around his knees. Ron was trying to charm his chess pieces to waltz, a spell they had been taught in class, which had offered him no end of amusement so far. Alas, he could feel Hermione's icy mood; the way she deliberately _wasn't_ glaring at him, but looking at her textbook instead (with something of a glare, it might be true). He couldn't perform in such circumstances, and the chess pieces kept treading on each other's toes. The atmosphere at the table was tense. Ginny occasionally looked over from where she sat, playing exploding snap with the some fellow 5th-years.

Abruptly, Harry stood up. He turned to leave the room, mumbling something about Hedwig.

And Ron was left alone to bear Hermione company.

* * *

Ginny had decided that she didn't want to go back down to the common room. She'd only come up the stairs to use the bathroom, but on coming out had decided she wanted to remain solitary. These days, compared to her first couple of years at Hogwarts, she was popular, and it was harder to be left alone in company. People had gotten used to her taking herself off every now and then for some quiet. Everybody did it to some extent – when one saw one's housemates practically 24 hours a day it was the only way to stay sane.

So she made her way up to the dormitory where she could at least pull the curtains around her bed if anyone else was up there. She sat on her bed and pondered. It was hard for her to get. . . recent events. . . out of her head. She'd been kissed before of course, but not _leapt on_ without warning, and nagging doubts still lingered. She was ruminating thus when the door to the dormitory opened, and Lavender walked in. Oh Merlin, was her first thought – she had never really liked the girl, finding her shallow and fairly dull – but then she paused. On second thoughts, if anyone would know about kissing it was Lavender.

Lavender gave her a brief smile and wandered over to her own bed, picking up a copy of Teenwitch Weekly to take back downstairs.

'Lavender,' Ginny began, and Lavender's blond head turned. Ginny hesitated a moment before continuing. 'How do you know – when someone kisses you – if they- what they mean by it?'

Lavender's often-haughty face broke into a wide grin.

'Oh!' she exclaimed, delighted. 'Can you tell me who?'

'Um – not really,' Ginny replied, worried.

'No matter,' Lavender said in a singsong voice, coming over to sit on Ginny's bed and looking as though Christmas had come early. 'If you describe it to me I might be able to tell you.'

There can't be much harm in that, Ginny thought.

'Err. . .,' she began. It was harder than she thought. 'Well, it was sort of. . . . . um. . . he. . . I don't know,' she concluded, lamely.

Lavender looked quizzically at her. 'Tender? Passionate? Sloppy? Fast? Slow?'

Ginny looked lost. Lavender sighed. 'Fine. Show me then.' A warning light came on in Ginny's head, and she shrank back involuntarily.

Lavender laughed. 'Oh relax, Ginny. I'm not privately in love with you or secretly gay or anything like that. But I can't tell you anything unless you can communicate this to me.' Ginny eyed her warily. She'd had quite enough of the being kissed by unlikely people business. Lavender rolled her eyes, and made to get up. 'Fine,' she said. 'I can't help you, I'm afraid.'

'No!' Ginny could not help but exclaiming. 'I – ok. Sit back down.' Lavender sat down on the bed, closer this time. Ginny found she could not look at the older girl. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet Lavender's. They gazed back at her unflinchingly, and Lavender moved her head closer to Ginny's. Oh Merlin, Ginny thought. What am I doing? She shut her eyes tightly and moved forwards to close the gap between their faces. Lavender sat passively, allowing Ginny to take control. Ginny tried to focus on imitating Harry's kiss. She was not so interested in Draco, after all – she had not the history with him. It was easier than she had expected to kiss Lavender, the other girl was so still, evidently measuring up the kiss in a disengaged manner. Just as Ginny felt she had managed to get the essence of Harry's technique, and was about to pull away, she was shocked to find Lavender suddenly kiss her back.

It was only for a second, but the relaxed state she had got into beforehand highlighted her shock, making it electric. Lavender's tongue was soft, and gentler than any boy's she had kissed – including the ones she had been dating at the time – and it seemed to know _exactly_ what it was doing. Ginny froze, and Lavender broke away, looking thoughtful.

'Hmmmm,' she said. 'Difficult to say. There is something there, but I'm not sure what. He seemed distracted, and yet it had potential.' She noted Ginny's shocked expression, and paused, looking at Ginny quizzically.

'What – was – _that_?' Ginny asked.

'What was what? Oh, you mean _that_.' She shrugged. 'I just thought it was a shame you were getting such lame kisses, so I thought I'd try and make up for it.'

'But. . . where did you learn to do that?' Ginny managed, flabbergasted.

Lavender giggled. 'Promise not to tell?' she asked. She went on regardless. 'Parvati and I have been practising for years, we found a book on it at my parent's house. Well, there was other stuff in there as well, but there are some things you should never do before you're seriously dating, even with your best friend.'

Ginny stared at her, speechless. Eventually she managed to find her voice. 'If the boys of Hogwarts ever found out what you just told me, I think they'd just about burst.'

Lavender smiled, and put her finger on her lips. 'Shhhh,' she said.

As though it's not enough to have kissed the two most popular boys in the school, Ginny thought to herself, I've now kissed the favourite girl, and uncovered the top porno story Hogwarts has ever seen. The entire school has reason to be envious of me.

She found she was no longer anxious about this. _Result!_ She thought, instead.

'Perhaps he is interested in you, but doesn't consciously know it,' Lavender reflected.

'Mmm?' Ginny said distractedly. She barely cared anymore. The temporary lapse into her first-year anxieties had left, and she felt the desire to see her friends again, and damn well _live_ rather than ponder.

'Yeah, thanks, Lavender, I'll bear that in mind,' Ginny said, getting up to leave.

Lavender simpered. 'Well, if you need advice again, Ginny, you know where to come.' She realised the young madam was no longer listening to her, shook her head, amused, picked up her magazine, and followed her downstairs.

* * *

Hedwig hooted and flew over to Harry as he entered the owlery. She took the treats he offered and nuzzled against him affectionately.

'At least you still care for me, Hedwig,' Harry murmured softly. He continued to feed her treats from the bag, stroking her soft feather with his other hand. He heard another's tread climbing slowly up the stairs, and turned away towards the window. He hoped whoever it was didn't try to engage him in conversation. The footsteps reached the top of the stairs – and stopped. There was a protracted pause and Harry turned round.

A figure stood frozen by the stairwell. Harry's eyes widened in shock.

'Draco,' he said needlessly.

'I – uh – that is – I was looking for somewhere to pray,' Draco managed.

'Ah,' Harry replied, hope sinking, and his face setting itself in expressionlessness.

The two former enemies stared at each other.

'I – uh. . .' Draco trailed off again. Come on, he told himself, get a grip. So he gripped onto the banister. Harry continued to stare. Then very deliberately, he walked towards Draco, never taking his eyes off the boy. Draco told himself to back away, but when he tried to move his feet, they seemed to want to walk in the wrong direction, and the distance between himself and the boy-who-lived narrowed until they were face-to-face, only a metre apart.

'You came to pray in an Owlery,' Harry teased lightly.

'There's not many places in Hogwarts less likely to be disturbed,' Draco replied, seemingly mesmerised.

'That's good,' Harry said.

He stepped forward to close the distance between them, and ran his right hand through Draco's hair slowly. It was fine, and soft. Draco shuddered under the touch. With his hand still on the back of Draco's head, Harry leant forward and kissed him.

Draco sighed, and his muscles relaxed. He wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed him back. Harry's lips moved from Draco's mouth and began to kiss slowly down his neck.

'Harry,' Draco murmured. 'Harry, Harry. . .' But before Harry could fumble at the top button of Draco's shirt, Draco stiffened.

'Harry!' he said sharply, much sharper than he felt. Harry sprang back, and looked at him guiltily.

'What?' he said.

'What are you doing?' Draco asked, slightly exasperated.

Harry looked shifty. 'Trying to seduce you,' was the reply.

'Well – don't,' Draco said. 'I'm – well – I've got a lot to think about, and you're distracting me.'

'Think about? Like what?' Harry interrogated, growing angry. What was Draco playing at? Hot, cold, on, off! The least he could do was explain why he was messing about with Harry's feelings.

'Well –you,' Draco admitted. 'It's just – I'm not sure we should have a relationship. I – um – religion seems to have a problem with boys kissing boys.'

Harry stared at him. 'Why?' he asked.

'It's – it's complicated,' Draco evaded.

Harry shook his head vigorously. 'Don't,' he said.

'Don't what?'

'Don't think about it.' He stepped forward again, a look of desperation on his face, obviously about to try and kiss Draco again, as though that would solve everything.

'Don't,' Draco commanded sternly. His voice contained more authority than Harry had ever heard it before, and it both surprised and terrified him. He could do nothing but hang his head as Draco turned and descended the stairs.

* * *

A/N Only two chapters left now... 


	14. Tensionreleased!

A/N A nice bit of slash to start you off -) My thanks to Drew who male-betaed it for me. I'd dedicate this chapter to him, but the rest of the chapter is so clearly written entirely for my own amusement that I can't do so honestly. I mean, who else wants to read religion angst, really? Maybe Kat -) Ok, so **to Drew and Kat**.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Tension….released!**

The mist furled over the lake, caressing the landscape with its gentle fingers. Draco stood alone on the bank of the lake, observing the scene. In the distance he could see the Forbidden Forest, dark and boding. He could feel the cool air on his face, and could hear the lapping of the water against the shore; a soothing, tranquil sound. Draco stood there, just enjoying the stillness of the scene, immersed in calm. He became aware of the presence of another behind him, just before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew who it was without turning around, and excitement danced through him.

'Draco,' Harry's voice said softly. Draco turned to see his lover. Harry's hair was messy, as always, and the damp mist formed little droplets that clung to his hair and face. His glasses were slightly steamed, and when Draco moved his gaze down to look at Harry's clothes…he found he wasn't wearing any. Strange. And yet, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Harry moved forward towards Draco, and time seemed to slow as their lips became steadily closer, until they touched – first lightly, then more firmly. Then suddenly, suddenly, time sped up again as Harry's hands roved over Draco's body, through his clothes, under his clothes, and Draco's heart pumped faster and faster with excitement. They were still kissing, but the kisses were hot, frenzied and furious, and the hands – oh, the hands would not stop touching Draco, in places more intimate than he had been touched before.

As his excitement reached a climax, he felt Harry pull him over and down, and into the lake…..

And he awoke, breathless, blissful and – well, with some wetness on the bed. Fuck, he thought, in a general way. After a few minutes for recovery he stripped the bed and changed the sheets. He hated sleeping in a wet patch.

As he drifted back off to sleep, the scene had changed. He was playing Quidditch opposite Harry, and there were - for some reason - muggle American cheerleaders, cheering him on.

'2468, God is good, God is straight! 3579 kissing girls will do just fine!' chanted the one side.

And the other: 'Tell me please, I don't know why, it's wrong to kiss another guy! And is it such a sin so heinous, to want to take him up the-'

* * *

Harry was still not happy. That much was clear. He was taking a lot of walks recently. Perhaps he strayed often to the Owlery, but as often he wandered round aimlessly, and alone. On one occasion, Ron decided to keep him company – perhaps the presence of his best friend could lift Harry's spirits a little, and perhaps Ron could get away from the uncomfortable protracted silences with Hermione in the common room. Alas, it was not to be. She, with a determined set to her jaw, followed the two of them out for their walk around the grounds. 

They had been walking in silence for some time when Harry stopped. Ron turned to him.

'You alright, mate?' he asked. Harry did not reply. Instead he sat down on the ground, and wrapped his arms around his knees. Ron and Hermione exchanged panicked glances. It was cold, the floor was wet, and certainly there was no scenery to admire at this bleak spot. What was Harry doing? Hermione crouched down next to him, and put her hand on his shoulder.

'Harry,' she said gently, 'Just tell me what's wrong, and I might be able to help you.' Harry buried his head in his knees.

'Er- I don't think he wants to talk about it,' Ron interjected.

'Well, thank you, Ronald, but you're not his fucking interpreter!' she screamed at him. Ron stared at her, aghast. He had never heard Hermione say even the most minor of swear words before. He was speechless. 'Oh don't stare at me like that, you stupid pillock,' she continued, at a lower volume, but still angry. 'I know you're only trying to protect him, but I'm his friend, too.' She turned back to Harry.

'Harry,' she repeated. 'Why won't you talk to me? Why won't you tell me what's wrong?' Harry raised his head, and Ron held his breath. Perhaps Hermione _could_ help. In a quiet voice, Harry spoke.

'Why won't you talk to _me_, tell _us _what's wrong?' he countered. Hermione looked taken aback. Ron looked confused. Only Harry looked out with a face devoid of expression.

Hermione battled within her own mind. She could feel responses vying for attention, but she could speak none of them. She looked at Harry, and he looked back. Their gaze locked for a good half minute before Hermione finally replied, in a soft voice.

'Because I don't rightly know.'

Ron found his tongue. 'What?' he said. 'What's wrong with Hermione? She's just been busy working, hasn't she?'

Harry replied, directing his words to Hermione, but mainly for Ron's benefit. 'Hiding in your books again, Hermione. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Why would I confide in you if you wouldn't in me?'

Hermione dropped her gaze. 'It's – well, I don't know, it's complicated,' she stammered.

'I bet it is,' Harry said, bitterly, 'Everything is around here it seems. That's exactly what Draco said.'

Hermione looked up, puzzled. 'Draco?' she asked, quizzically. What had he to do with it? And why was Harry using his first name?

Harry sighed. 'I should have told you a long time ago, Hermione,' he said. Gradual comprehension was dawning on her. 'Draco and I-' he paused. 'Well, we've-.' He couldn't think of the words. Luckily Ron intervened. He, too, crouched down besides Harry and Hermione. If there was going to be a group bonding session, he wasn't going to miss it.

'They're involved,' he supplied. 'Seamus was correct in one respect – Draco did like Harry. But he didn't bank on Harry liking Draco back.' Hermione nodded, slowly, assimilating this information. It all made more sense now.

Harry looked over at Ron, and half-smiled. 'Now you're calling him Draco, too,' he said. 'I thought you were going to kill him if he broke my heart.' Ron half-smiled back. 'You wouldn't want me to,' he replied, reasonably. 'And I – I love you Harry,' he muttered quickly, going red. 'And I couldn't not feel affection for somebody you cared about.'

Hermione choked back a sob, and they both turned to look at her, her two best friends. Ron's face was a mirror of concern. He may not be the most emotionally in tune guy in the world, but it would be hard to find one more loyal and caring. Harry too, looked sympathetic, and he seemed ready to understand. For a moment she felt like the she might be the luckiest girl in the world, if she could only be happy about it. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she sniffed and shook her head, shaking the urge to cry away. Harry whispered to Ron, 'Go on,' and Ron went round from Harry's side to sit by Hermione and put his arm round her, not questioning why it should be him to comfort her.

'Your turn, Hermione,' Harry said, not without a trace of humour.

'It's –well, it's sort of about Draco too, in a way,' she began, between sniffs.

'About Draco?' Harry asked, puzzled.

'Well, not entirely,' Hermione replied. 'Well not really at all,' she added, smiling a little at Ron's alarmed expression. 'And nothing like Harry's circumstances, Ron, so don't look so worried.' Relief spread like sunshine over his freckled face.

'That could have been problematic,' Harry agreed with a small grin. 'Both of us with a crush on Draco Malfoy.'

'Well, yes, that was what I was thinking,' sad Ron quickly.

With a deep breath, Hermione continued, and they all three sobered down again. Harry and Ron were certainly not prepared for what Hermione said next.

'I don't – I don't think much about religion these days – I mean, in the wizarding world. It doesn't really come up. My parents are Christian, as I'm sure I've said, and they're very nice and liberal. They were delighted when they found out I was a witch – some Christians are scared of witches and wizards you know, not sure why – and when I started telling them about all the books I was reading, they were fascinated. They liked the idea of Jesus as wizard, performing all those miracles for bewildered muggles. But it would never occur to them to doubt that he was the Son of God as well. For me, though, it was the last straw.'

She looked down at her feet and began to play with he fingers, interlacing them together.

'I'd been thinking – well, more like not thinking, really. I hadn't been consciously questioning anything, it was just that the more books I read – on science, philosophy, things like that – the less Christianity seemed to mean anything. It was more like a little story that I liked when I was younger but had grown out of. It was kind of upsetting that that was happening – I'd stopped praying at home, and just read more and more books. When I got my Hogwarts letter, it destroyed whatever spark of faith I had left, but it was all so exciting I didn't notice, or didn't care. What need had I for religion? I was a witch! I got here. And Christianity was something that happened at home, in the muggle world. I love my parents, and I respect their beliefs, but at the same time there's so much they don't _understand_'

She paused, and Ron interrupted. 'But – you didn't take Draco's religion seriously, did you?' he asked, incredulously. Harry snorted a bitter laugh. Draco certainly seemed to be taking it seriously now.

'Well – not really,' Hermione continued. 'But suddenly Christianity had burst back into the wizard world. Whatever rubbish that preacher was talking, he was a wizard and a – well, he at least thought of himself as Christian. We had that conversation – do you remember? In the common room – it all seems so long ago now – and suddenly I was talking about religion - to wizards – and it turned my world upside down. I thought about it, and I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't shut it out of my head except when I kept busy so….,' she sighed. 'Back came the books. And I still don't know what I think and I _hate_ not knowing what I think and I _hate_ not knowing things and I _hate_ not having the answer. And I sort of want to talk about it, though I sort of don't, but I don't know who I could talk to – a witch or wizard, you know, a sensible one, who knew all about religion and could help me understand what I think about it.' She paused again.

'We're here for you, Hermione,' Harry said. 'Even though we don't know things.'

She smiled a little. 'I know,' she said. 'I'm on my own, but I at least have you guys to be on my own with.' She leant over to lie on Ron's shoulder, and sighed.

'You're alright Hermione,' he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

Harry shook his head. 'Religion does seem to turn everyone's life upside down,' he said wistfully.

'Yes,' Hermione agreed simply. 'But so does love.'

Harry looked as though a thought had just occurred to him. 'Do you think we should go inside?' he said.

'What about you telling me what's wrong?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, I'll do it on the way,' Harry shrugged. 'It's simple enough. Draco's not sure his God wants him kissing me.'

'Oh!' Hermione said, understanding now. 'I see.'

'Yeah,' Harry continued. I've just got to wait now, and see what he decides.'

'It doesn't bother you – that he's Slytherin?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, I'm sure if he can deal with it, I can. And the rest of the school, for that matter.'

There was a pause.

'So,' Ron said. 'Inside?' The other two nodded.

'Well I'm glad one of you suggested it,' he continued. 'I'm bloody freezing.'

'It is pretty cold,' Hermione agreed, standing up.

'Do you want my coat?' Ron offered, also standing. Hermione looked over at him.

'Now why would I need your coat?' she asked, shaking her head at him and smiling. He blushed bright red.

'I dunno… you're a girl…just thought I'd ask,' he muttered.

'So good of you to notice,' she teased.

'Ahem!' interrupted Harry, linking an arm with each of his friends. And they returned to school like that, walking quickly and huddled together for warmth. Not exactly happy, with different problems to contend with, but united in their friendship, from which they could face the world.

* * *

A/N The chant '2468 God is good, God is great' is from the film 'But I'm a cheerleader.' The latter half and the second chant is entirely my own ;-) 

Only 1 chapter left! Are you excited? I am.


	15. Back to Hogsmeade

A/N I really do appear to have a water fetish, at least where Draco is concerned.  
This chapter is dedicated to **Jessie**: for reading, for listening, for being generally cool. And as deposit for our big religious discussion that will happen. Oh yes. More slashand Christianity can be found in her Narnia fic, 'By the Lion Led.' (penname Random1).  
This chapter is long. There is a new character, and the return of a long-absent one.

* * *

**  
Chapter 15: Back to Hogsmeade**

It had all started with a trip to Hogsmeade. And now, in Hogsmeade, there formed a new beginning.

Whilst most of the Gryffindors were in the Three Broomsticks, and Crabbe and Goyle in Honeydukes, Draco returned to the Hogsmeade church.

He still had not found a place to pray. He had sent out pleas in the night, on those dark nights when guilt and doubt prevented his repose. He hoped that now, Sunday – God's Holy day, supposedly – he might find relief in church. Foolish, isn't he?

'Draco!' Clymelda exclaimed, happily, but also piercingly high-pitched and loud. She rushed over to him as he shuffled embarrassedly through the entrance. 'How delightful! You've come back!'

He winced visibly and spoke monotonously. 'Yes,' he agreed. 'I have, haven't I? Did you doubt that I would?'

'Well,' she began, lowering her voice confidentially. 'So many young people don't, you know. No staying power.'

'So long as God is here,' Draco replied with a straight face. 'I am by his side.'

She looked a little taken aback for a moment, then beamed. 'Well of course,' she trilled. 'And he always will be here.'

'Yes,' he nodded. 'That's eternity for you. A more long-term relationship you couldn't find.'

'A ha ha ha ha?' she laughed uncertainly. He smiled thinly at her, and went past her to sit down, hoping not to be bothered again. Luckily, Peter entered at this moment.

'Peter!' she exclaimed, going to greet him. 'How was the fete? Did the muffins sell well?'

Wonderful, Draco thought to himself. They've been selling muffins. So this is how it's going to be. Best get comfortable, Draco. You're hanging with the muffin man now.

The seats were arranged in rows – not many seats or rows, but neatly arranged, nonetheless. Normally they were in a circle. It seemed there was preparation for something – though what, Draco did not know, not being in contact with the rest of the congregation outside of Hogsmeade visits, a circumstance he was not particularly sorry for.

Oh, but _Jesus_, the congregation. He still wasn't sure what he was doing here, except that meeting up with other Christians was what you were supposed to do on a Sunday, and he really couldn't hack seeing Archibald at the moment. He wondered if he should maybe try to talk to the rest of the crowd. No, spiritual communion was the important thing. And since it was spiritual, physical contact was not important, so it was fine if he sat as far away from them as possible. Or at least, he reflected, it was better than if he tried to kill them.

Depends what you mean by better, really.

* * *

Harry approached the door to the prefects' bathroom, knowing that it would be unlocked. Draco had asked him to meet here, and had promised him everything would be unlocked. Harry reached out to open the door handle, and it turned. The door opened and he was met by a wave of steam that immediately made him feel hot and tingly. His glasses steamed up and he temporarily could not see what was right in front of him. He took his glasses off, cleaned then, and replaced them. He caught a glance of something he could not quite believe before they steamed back up again. Draco's voice came amusedly from behind the cloud of steam: 'acclaro.' The steam cleared, and all was revealed. 

_Draco _was revealed. He lounged in the bath, bubbles tastefully covering his pelvic region and clinging to his upper torso in a… strangely seductive manner. Harry's jaw dropped open.

'Draco?' he said, stupidly. Draco raised an eyebrow and shifted slightly in the bath, chaste pelvic-covering bubbles staying in place, of course. Harry was torn between things to say. So he said perhaps the least pressing.

'You bathe with your wand?'

Draco stared at him for a moment. 'Oh!' he exclaimed finally. 'You mean the clearing spell. _That_ wand. Yes, Potter, I take my wand everywhere.'

'And you invited me here… to see you bathe?'

'Well, actually I hoped you might join me. But if watching's your thing, I can dig that.'

Harry swallowed and took a step forward to the bath.

'Draco,' he said hoarsely.

'Harry,' came the reply. But it didn't sound quite right somehow. Harry looked at Draco uncertainly.

'Harry!' It was Hermione's voice. Why was Draco talking in Hermione's voice?

'HARRY!'

Harry jolted upright with a start. His glasses were skewed on his face, his hair plastered to his face and he was so glad there was a table blocking the sight of the bulge in his trousers from the eyes of everybody in the Three Broomsticks.

'Dreaming of Draco were we?' Ron teased him.

'Um,' Harry said. Ron's face fell.

'Oh, you were. Sorry, mate. You really like the bugger don't you?'

'Um,' Harry repeated. He'd just woken up, been cruelly dragged from a warm wet place involving Draco and bubbles, and wasn't feeling quite ready for this conversation.

'Harry, eat something,' Hermione ordered, pushing some sandwiches towards him. 'It's past lunch time and we don't want you fainting in the shops.'

'Shops?'

'Yes, Harry, shops. We're in Hogsmeade.' She looked exasperatedly at Ron. 'Is he always like this when he wakes up?'

'He's worse at early-morning Quidditch.'

'Like you'd know,' Harry managed to retort. 'You're even worse than me. You wouldn't notice if I transfigured into a Hippogriff for Quidditch practise.'

'I would _too _notice,' Ron said indignantly. 'You'd never be able to ride your broom!'

Hermione snorted into her butterbeer. 'Fine,' she said. 'I'll ask Ginny which of you is worse at early-morning Quidditch practise.' She called across the bar: 'Ginny!' The younger girl didn't answer.

'She's flirting again,' Ron observed glumly. 'With the entirety of Ravenclaw by the looks of it.'

'I think it's quite sweet,' Hermione said.

'Yeah, but she's not your sister.'

Harry's head fell back onto the table.

* * *

As the chairs filled up with extra people he had not seen in his previous visit, Draco began to realise what was going on. That priest bloke they were talking about must be visiting today. Oh, wonderful, so he was going to have to listen to a Hufflepuff assembly. At least Dumbledore was usually quick – who knew what this guy would be like? Maybe he'd be like Professor Bimms. Maybe he was Professor Bimms – it wasn't as though anyone knew what he did with his Sundays. Maybe it was Professor Bimms' boring cousin who was too boring to be a teacher, so had turned to the priesthood. Oh Jesus. What was he doing here? 

Draco's fears were confirmed when the priest walked in. A mild-looking middle-aged man, everybody stood up to greet him. Draco stood reluctantly and, to his horror, found that they were in fact standing up to sing.

_'_Amazing Grace…'

_Oh God….._

'How sweet the sound…'

_Would be if they could bloody even sing…_

'That saved a wretch like me….'

_I am pretty wretched. Especially when they sing._

'I once was lost…'

_Lost. That's exactly what I was._

'But now am found…'

_Are you getting into this?_

'Was blind but now I see.'

_I forbid you to get into this! Oh God…..too late…._

He couldn't really be enjoying the song, could he? It appeared he was. Even weirder, he enjoyed the sermon. It didn't have fire and brimstone in, but neither was it quite the fluffy 'love one another as God has loved you' stuff. The priest was reading a fight Jesus had with some Pharisees, it was quite cool. And then the priest talked about hypocrisy for a bit and Draco found his thoughts wandering to half of Hogwarts….. and then to Archibald …. and then to himself.

When the service had ended, Draco decided to go and talk to the priest. He seemed like a more sensible chap than Clymelda and Peter at leasT. Any excuse not to be accosted by _them_ again. He passed by them on his way to the front, and heard Clymelda chattering excitedly.

'Lovely sermon, don't you think? And so important. It's our job to tell the non-Christians about hypocrisy.'

'And set an example, Clymelda,' Peter reminded her.

'Well yes, and set an example. But we can't help but do that, can we? We're Christians.'

Draco found himself sniggering as he walked past, and had to make quite the effort to stop. Eventually he managed it and stood in front of the priest bloke.

'Hello,' the priest-bloke said. 'I've not seen you here before, have I? I'm Randall.' He held out his hand formally, and Draco shook it.

'I enjoyed the sermon,' Draco said by way of greeting. 'I'm Draco, by the way.'

'Thankyou, Draco,' Randall replied. 'Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?'

'Oh – I – just wanted to introduce myself.'

'Oh really? You lookso nervous youappear constipated.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'Well I'm not. There is nothing amiss in my bowels, thankyou.'

Randallreplied equably:'Good, good, let's find somewhere to sit and have a little chat then, shall we? Away from the congregation. We could hide behind a curtain, maybe. Clymelda always forgets to look behind curtains. I think she has a phobia of cloth.'

'Um… right…' Draco replied. He was beginning to feel a little unsure about this strange little man. He followed him to a nearby curtain in something of a daze.

'That's probably why she wears so much angora,' Randall continued when they sat down. 'Clymelda,' he added when Draco stared at him.

'Yes… probably,' Draco agreed vaguely. 'Um… maybe I should be going.'

'Nonsense!' Randall continued. His face turned serious then. 'What ails you, Draco?'

Draco sighed. Here goes, he thought. 'Homosexuality,' he said. 'What's the deal?'

Randall gave him a measuring look. 'I take it you don't want me to tell you what it is?'

'No,' Draco replied shortly. 'I want to know if shagging a boy is going to piss God off.'

'Why do you ask?'

'Because no-one seems to agree.'

Randall nodded slowly. 'So am I going to give you the definitive answer, or are you just canvassing?'

'I don't know,' said Draco. 'I know what I want to think. But I want to know what the right answer is. Archibald says my bum is going to be burning pretty soon. Peter seems to think it'll be alright. Har- A friend of mine muttered some stuff about bisexual dolphins and scripture in context. So which is it?'

'I can't tell you that, Draco.'

'Oh!' Draco exclaimed irritably. '_Please._'

Randall threw back his head and laughed. 'Oops, sorry, forgot we were hiding,' he said, quietening down again. 'I can't tell you that, Draco, because you have to decide that for yourself. Your friends appear to disagree, but in fact what they all should agree on is this: no Christian should ignore the dictates of his own conscience. The evidence is sketchy, I know, and you have to make up your own mind.'

'But how am I meant to do that?'

'You have to pray.'

'It's hard finding the time and place,' Draco grumbled.

'You have to make time, and create a space. It doesn't just drop out of the sky. What are you doing this afternoon? Why don't you go and find somewhere, have a sit and a natter with your conscience.'

'Because it sounds like Harry Potter with a humour bypass,' Draco grumbled some more.

'The Boy who lived? Really? Mine sounds like Jimmy Saville – he's a famous Muggle, you know. Don't recall what for.'

Draco stared at Randall. 'You're weird,' he said, finally. 'And why do you hide from your congregation?'

Randall looked slightly shifty. 'I'm a Slytherin,' he said. 'There's only so much Hufflepuff I can take.'

'You're a Slytherin?'

'Yup. And don't tell me, you are too. Because you just hide it _so well_.'

'Cunning not a sin then?'

'Depends what you mean by cunning. If you mean dexterous or skilful rather than evil, no. Indeed, I tend to prefer "prudent" – it's a virtue, you know, being able to be wise about practical matters.'

'That's what you tell yourself,' Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

Randall laughed. 'Oh, go and pray. I'd best go and talk to people.'

And with that he swept aside the curtain and was gone.

* * *

Draco made his way down to the copse of trees in which he had met up with Harry not so long ago, deliberately taking a different path this time. When he found a quiet place in its depths, he knelt on the ground, joined his hands and stilled his mind. 

'Draco! Good to see you! Long time no see! Where've you been? It's been – ooh – 7 chapters since I last bumped into you,' his conscience piped up.

'Shut up,' Draco replied, not without affection. 'I want you to think about something for me, and you've got to pay attention, because I need the answer to be right.'

* * *

-Fin-

* * *

A/N For good discussions on Christianity/homosexuality, see the website www dot bridges-across dot org slash ba slash index dot htm – a variety of positions, but everybody being nice to each other while they're at it. Hurrah!  
Do you like Randall? He was kind of my version of a Slytherin religious Dumbledore-esque (i.e. totally mad but wise) figure, except being as Draco's more independent that Harry, he'd have to be less fatherly.  
I'm going to be putting up two alternative epilogues at some point, so if you wait impatiently I'll put them up sooner. (Nagging really works). 


	16. Epilogue a: Jesus loves you

a/n The long delayed epilogues. Or the first one, anyway. The idea is that you choose which ending you prefer and ignore the other one. I'm sorry for the wait, I've been out of the country and offline! Dedicated to anyone who actually remembers this fic exists :-)

* * *

Jesus loves you

Harry looked nervous. He was pacing up and down and he couldn't seem to keep his hands still - wringing, clenching or just plain shaking ­- they were constantly on the move. Draco was leaning against the wall, watching him with a smirk on his face - but a smirk tinged with a hint of it's own nervousness.

They were in a corridor - a rather plain corridor by Hogwarts standards, but this was not an oft frequented corridor, nor an old one. It was painted white and had no windows. There were a number of doors on each side, plus another at one end, the other end turning into a corner.

'I can't believe you talked me into this,' Harry said at length, pausing in his pace to look accusingly at Draco.

'Me? It was Hermione's idea.'

Harry sighed and nodded.

'Can't say I didn't encourage her, though,' Draco continued. 'She was so miffed that I thought of setting up the Christian Union, she needed some kind of outlet for her energies. If nothing else, to stop her being overbearingly fluffy to my new recruits.

'Bastard,' Harry said flatly, without meaning it.

The door to their left opened, and Seamus walked through, dressed in sumptuous purple velvet robes. The other two looked over and nodded at him, but continued.

'I do think you could have taken a bigger part, though,' complained Harry. He gestured towards Seamus. 'I would have thought Seamus' royal costume might have had some appeal, for example.'

Draco nodded agreement. 'Well yes, it does,' he said. 'But the costume isn't the whole package, is it? I still have some credibility left, even though I'm going out with you.'

Seamus grinned. 'Good job I don't, then,' he said, good-naturedly. 'I'm quite looking forward to it.'

'Besides, black suits me,' Draco continued, with finality in his tone.

'Every colour suits you,' Harry grumbled. He tried again. 'How about-'

'I'm not the betrayal type,' Draco pre-empted him firmly.

Before Harry could come up with any more futile suggestions, Ginny burst in.

'Ginny!' Seamus exclaimed in mock horror. 'What are you doing here? You're not cast! Get back to the lighting.'

She pulled a face at him. 'I'm just here to wish good luck to the star of the show.' She walked past Harry, grinning, to a door on the other side of the corridor, and knocked smartly.

'Hannah!' she called. The door opened slightly, and Hannah Abbot's pink face, even pinker than usual with anxiety, poked around it.

'I'm scared, Ginny,' she said.

Ginny shook her head fondly. 'You'll be brilliant,' she reassured the older girl. 'Just remember our rehearsals. And, er-' she glanced as Hannah's bare shoulder that had followed the head round the door. 'Do remember to put some clothes on, won't you? We're skipping her prostitute years.' Hannah smiled nervously and retreated back into the makeshift girls' changing room, just as Hermione burst upion the scene, Ron a step behind her.

'What are you doing here, Ginny?' she snapped. 'Get back to the lights.'

Ginny grinned and scampered off down the corridor.

'Are you ready?' Hermione asked, turning to Harry, Draco and Seamus. Ron, behind her, nodded fervently and emphatically at them, hoping they would see his cue. 'Yes, Hermione,' Harry said firmly. 'We're all ready and prepared. Now go back into the audience. Your job is done. We have direction.'

Ron sighed visibly with relief. 'See, Herm?' Let me take you out to Dean, he'll look after you.'

'I do not need looking after,' she snapped at him, but allowed herself to be led away by the hand.

'Whoo! Bedlam!' cheered Seamus as other cast members began to pour into the corridor, chattering and looking slightly green. Some of them came up to Harry with wishes that he 'break a leg or whatever.'

'Why is it "break a leg"?' Harry asked anybody listening. He was answered by little Dennins Creevey who was walking past. 'So as not to tempt fate, you wish the star the worst that could happen to them. A sort of inverse logic - sod's law kind of thing.'

'The worst that could happen?!' Lisa Turpin said, incredulously. 'Madam Pomfrey can mend that in seconds! This is a wizarding school, and that's the worst that could happen?! I mean, just think about it.'

'Encouraging, thanks,' Harry said drily. He was spared any further musings on the worst that could happen by Justin Finch-Fletchley coming backstage and shushing them all.

This was the moment. This was it. Harry could feel his stomach churning as they waited together anxiously. Then the orchestra struck up and he knew there was no backing out. He could feel Draco's eyes on him and he realised all of a sudden that he didn't want to back out. Not at _all_. The boy who lived took a deep breath, squeezed his boyfriend's hand, and smiled.

* * *

a/n A prize if you've gathered which show they're putting on, and bonus points if you can guess who Harry, Draco, Seamus, Ron and Hannah are playing :-) Suggestions for other characters welcome. Give me reviews. Reviews! Then I might write the other epilogue. She says. 

**Edit: **no-one's guessed, so I must be being too subtle. The clue is in the chapter title, which is addressed to Draco. Oh, and it's a musical. Any guesses? Pleeeeeeeease?


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